


The Misadventures of Moose and Squirrel: it's very complicated

by amusawale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Sam Winchester, Falling In Love, First Time, Homeless Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Leviathans, M/M, Missing Persons, Season/Series 07, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 18:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16246982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusawale/pseuds/amusawale
Summary: He woke up to a white room and curious silence. Not silence around him. He could hear people bustling about somewhere close, the whirr of the ceiling fan above him, a machine steadily beeping…But still, he felt like it was weirdly quiet.Peaceful.He lifted his head, looking around for clues. He was surrounded by white space, a thin blanket, thin mattress, naked backside. He was definitely in a hospital. He sat up, twisting awkwardly to reach for the chart at the foot of his bed. He was hindered by his leg which was apparently in traction but he was glad to find that he was tall enough to manage it.He snagged the chart, reading the name at the top.John Doe.Huh.Something told him that wasn’t his name.What was his name again?





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Wincest Big Bang.  
> It was so much fun to write.  
> I hope you have as much fun reading it.  
> thank you to jld71 and Kay McNeil for the beta read and txdora for the artwork.

Artwork by txdora on [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249313) and [lj ](https://tx-devilorangel.livejournal.com/d26.html)

[ ](https://ibb.co/fAYur9)

“Where exactly do you think you’re going Sam?”  
He increased his pace.  
“You can’t outrun your mind, stupid. Why don’t we try some more of those drugs, huh? That was fun. Psychedelic disco with all the lights…I could jam all night. Come on Sammy, don’t be a wet blanket,” Lucifer whispered in his ear, always just a hair’s breadth away no matter how fast Sam was moving.  
Sam was running, running, running, hoping to outrun the devil. He didn’t even hear the car as he ran across the road. One minute the devil was taunting him, the next, there was blackness.  
He woke up to a white room and curious silence. Not silence around him. He could hear people bustling about somewhere close, the whirr of the ceiling fan above him, a machine steadily beeping…  
But still, he felt like it was weirdly quiet.  
Peaceful.  
He lifted his head, looking around for clues. He was surrounded by white space, a thin blanket, thin mattress, naked backside. He was definitely in a hospital. He sat up, twisting awkwardly to reach for the chart at the foot of his bed. He was hindered by his leg which was apparently in traction but he was glad to find that he was tall enough to manage it.  
He snagged the chart, reading the name at the top.  
John Doe.  
Huh.  
Something told him that wasn’t his name.  
What was his name again?


	2. Lost and Not Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean startled awake in the front seat of the Impala, head turning automatically to check on Sam. He clutched at his forehead, hangover making itself felt with some hammering to his brain.

Dean startled awake in the front seat of the Impala, head turning automatically to check on Sam. He clutched at his forehead, hangover making itself felt with some hammering to his brain.

“Sam?” he called seeing the empty seat beside him. He turned around to check the backseat, already knowing what he would find.

He was definitely alone in the car.

He clambered out, staggering a bit as he squinted into the sunrise, looking for any sign of his brother.

“Sam!” his voice echoed in the alley where he was parked but no answering, irritable, bitchy reply came.

The alleyway was also empty of any brothers named Sam. There was however, a once green dumpster and the distinct smell of rotting fish. Dean gagged, returning to his seat as fast as possible and revving the engine. He decided to drive around the neighborhood; maybe Sam had gone for coffee or even a run with his Lance Armstrong ass. Dean was so going to ream him out for not leaving a note or something. But first he had to find him.

∞

Three days of searching high and low and Dean had to admit he was stumped. Sam was just…gone. He couldn’t go to the cops, not with their faces plastered all over the place as those murdering Winchesters. There was nobody he could call for help. Bobby was dead. Cas was gone. He was alone and his brother was in the wind.

Dean briefly thought about summoning Crowley but short of making a deal, the fucker probably wouldn’t tell him anything.

 _Was_ he ready to make a deal?

An image of Sam’s face, if he knew what Dean was thinking, crossed his mind.

Maybe he would wait a bit before activating a nuclear option. He could…his face twisted as he thought hard...well he could hack medical records. Keep an eye out for any John Does in hospitals or mortuaries.

But…what if Sam was just wandering in a haze of hell memories and Lucifer baiting? He could be a crazy person on the street, he could be anything. He could forget to eat and die of starvation. It hurt Dean’s heart even to think about it.

What he _did_ know was that he wasn’t going to stop searching; if he had to go street by street and house by house, that was what was gonna happen.

First things first, he needed to establish a base of operations. He’d noticed a group of foreclosed properties as they drove into town. One of those would have to do for now. He didn’t know how long it would take him to search and money was tight.

∞

“Good morning Mr. Doe,” Emily, his night nurse said and Sam smiled. Emily was always resolutely cheerful and it lifted his spirits to no end.

“Morning Emily, what are you still doing here?”

“Well, remember I told you my boyfriend was in forensics? He says we can find out who you are easy enough. All we need is your fingerprints.”

He reared back, strangely reluctant to comply with that request, “Er, can we just…we can give it some time, right? Maybe something will shake loose on its own.”

“Okay. It’s your call. I was just thinking that maybe there’s a girlfriend or wife whose worried sick about you.”

He lifted his ring-less fingers, “I doubt it,” he said.

“Boyfriend?” Emily asked with a cheeky grin.

This time he hesitated, feeling like to deny it would not be the complete truth.

“Nooo! Really? God, why do the gorgeous ones always play for the other team?” Emily complained.

He gave her a jaundiced look, “You just said you have a boyfriend!”

“Yeah, but I can look can’t I?”

Emily had told him he had no ID when they brought him in. His pockets were empty of either phone or wallet. All he had was a credit card receipt for two coffees signed by David Hasselhoff. Somehow, he didn’t think that was his name. Knowing one thing about himself – that he was possibly gay – was a start. He wondered at his reluctance to involve the police in his identification.

Was he a criminal?

Maybe a conman?

That was probably why he had a fake name on the receipt and no ID.

They told him he’d been in a hit and run accident; luckily someone had called it in. He had a broken tibia, three cracked ribs and retrograde amnesia following some swelling in his brain. He could remember nothing of his life, not his name, his age, _nothing_. All he had was a constantly nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was missing.

Something vital.

∞

Dean decided to go from hospital to hospital first, armed with a picture of Sam. He didn’t expect much. Even with Sam balls to the walls crazy he knew that his brother would have gotten in touch if he could. And if he couldn’t, it probably meant he was dead.

But Dean wasn’t ready to face that possibility yet. So he would walk from ward to ward if he had to, then street to street before he gave in to the thought that his brother might be lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

He woke early, brewing himself a cup of coffee in the Keurig he found, stowed beneath the kitchen sink in the house he was squatting in. It had been quite a find, still furnished with the bare necessities; a bed, a table, an old chair and of course, the coffee maker. He poured the coffee in his travel mug, and headed out to the first hospital.

St Ambrose was on the west side and it was buzzing with activity. Ambulances rushing in and out, ER staff trying to triage the queue as fast as possible, crying babies, distressed mamas, the occasional scream of bereavement echoing down the corridors.

Chaos.

Dean’s heart sunk, wondering where to start. He stood at the counter, waiting for the receptionist to notice him. It took five minutes of staring fixedly at her before she finally looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m looking for someone,” he said fishing his phone out of his pocket.

The lady’s expression managed to communicate without words how much of a fuck she didn’t give and could he maybe stop wasting her time and hurry up already?

“Umm...Have you seen this guy?” he brandished his phone in her face, display featuring Sam.

She glanced at it, _radiating_ disinterest.

“Huh,” she said after a moment’s thought.

“Huh? As in huh, he looks kinda familiar or…?” Dean leaned toward her, staring anxiously into her eyes, his hands shaking just a bit.

“Well, he kind of looks like John up in Orthopedics,” she murmured thoughtfully.

“John? As in John Doe?”

“Er…yeah.”

“ _Where_ ’s orthopedics?”

“I’m sorry you can’t go up there right now. It’s not visiting hours.”

Dean bared his teeth, ready to bite the receptionist’s head off. But he stopped, realizing it wouldn’t help.

“Can I see his physician?”

The receptionist sighed, “Dr. Foster is not around at this time. He has rounds in two hours if you want to wait.”

Dean bit his lip to stop himself from saying something _Sam_ might regret, rage ran through his body but he nodded his agreement. He turned away, walking out of the hospital. As soon as he was out of sight of reception he doubled back, slipping through a fire exit and taking the stairs two at a time. Orthopedics was in the west wing on the second floor according to the hospital map he’d scanned. Then all he had to do was get past the nurses on duty and he was golden.

Piece of cake.

∞

Sam was sitting up in bed, reading a book someone had left in the waiting room. It was a story about Sergio and Ronaldo and their big gay love. Sam was trying to see if any of it sounded familiar or even arousing. So far, he was too caught up in laughing at all the synonyms for sexual organs, and their descriptions of the act itself to really pay attention to his own reactions. The story didn’t hold his attention though, it was like a lullaby, soothing him off to sleep.

 


	3. Do You Remember?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean felt like the Pink Panther peering from room to room while dodging nurses and doctors and trying to look like he might belong. The orthopedics corridor was long, with lots of people walking around on crutches or in wheelchairs with huge ass casts on their arms or legs.
> 
> “What happened to you, Sam?” Dean wondered, whispering to himself.

 Dean felt like the Pink Panther peering from room to room while dodging nurses and doctors and trying to look like he might belong. The orthopedics corridor was long, with lots of people walking around on crutches or in wheelchairs with huge ass casts on their arms or legs.

“What happened to you, Sam?” Dean wondered, whispering to himself.

He was coming up to the nurse’s station, still with no sign of his brother. He felt his chest tighten with anxiety, wondering if the receptionist below had been yanking his chain. He stood behind the doorway to the bathroom, watching the nurse’s station, waiting for it to empty. Surely sooner or later, they needed to go check on patients or some shit…

It _wasn’t_ a piece of cake, trying to find his brother while not being caught.

There always seemed to be a nurse hanging out in sight, looking alert and aware. He couldn’t just pass himself off as a patient or a doctor. Everyone was either in hospital scrubs or had some sort of ID.  His flannel, old jeans and scuffed boots just didn’t blend in. He considered trying to steal a uniform but that was harder than the movies made it look. Random hospital workers just didn’t keep their scrubs in conveniently placed lockers for any wannabe impersonator to steal.  But he couldn’t afford to waste two hours if this guy wasn’t Sam…

He shrugged inwardly, walking resolutely toward the nurse’s station.

“Hello.”

A nurse looked up, eyebrows raised like she was startled to see him.

“Can I help you?”

“I understand you have a John Doe here who might match the description of my brother?”

Her eyebrows rose higher.

“I thought I’d take a look and see if I can ID him.”

Dean stared hopefully at her as she stared back at him, seeming nonplussed.

“You want to ID John Doe?” she repeated like she could not believe what he was saying. Like it was completely out of the ordinary.

“Yes, please?”

She looked around like she was searching for someone to tell her what to do. Dean stood patiently in front of her, praying she would let him into Sam’s… _maybe_ Sam’s room.

∞

He woke up with that same sense of urgency.

Of something vital missing.

He wanted to jump out of bed, run out of the room and go find it. But he could hardly go to the bathroom without help. He wasn’t walking out of the hospital; let alone running.

“Morning!” Emily walked in looking bright and cheerful and he had to work very hard not to frown at her.

 _‘Ooh there goes bitch face number five’_ a phantom flashed through his mind, teasing, laughing at him with just his eyes. He grabbed at it, trying to fit a face…or a memory to it. But it was gone as fast as it came. He wanted to reach out, grab for it, cradle it in his arms and examine every part of it. The one thing he could remember for sure was that the voice was male. Maybe it was a boyfriend? Somehow he didn’t think a father would say that.

Or a brother.

 _Did_ brothers pay that much attention to each other?

Oh that’s right. He couldn’t remember.

Emily was checking his vitals, ignoring the fact that he was ignoring her.

“Everything seems great so far. You’re as healthy as a horse.” She said with a smile.

“Except for the broken bones you mean?” he literally could not help the salt.

Emily fairly beamed, “Yeah, except for that. We’re thinking about moving you to a rehab facility since you have no knowledge of who you are.”

“We?”

“Well, yeah, you know the doctors and such. The only thing is with no insurance…” Emily looked veritably awkward.

“I can’t afford it,” he finished for her.

“Probably not,” Emily looked so apologetic he almost reached out a hand to comfort her.

“It’s fine. I’ll figure it out.”

“My boyfriend might be able to find somebody for you.”

He shrugged, “I think if I had someone, they would have found me by now. Or at least filed a missing persons report.”

Emily sighed, reaching out to squeeze his hand, “We’ll figure something out,” she said like they were friends or something. He nodded stiffly.

“Sure…” he said, _‘Jan.’_ the word echoed in his mind, wanting to tack itself at the end of the sentence but he wouldn’t let it. He might not know what it meant but he knew it was rude. Emily didn’t deserve rudeness.

Much.

He watched her leave the room, leaning back against his pillow as he thought furiously. He figured it was time for him to leave the hospital. He was as well as he was going to get. He needed to find somewhere he could lay low, figure things out.

∞

After what seemed like forever, a doctor finally appeared. Apparently he was the only one who could give permission for someone to see the patient.

“You wish to see patient John Doe?”

“Er, yeah,” Dean said, wiping damp hands on his jeans. He was more nervous than he could ever remember being in his life.

“Well, there is an issue with the patient…” the doctor began reluctantly.

“Lemme guess,” Dean cut in, “he’s slightly loco?” he lifted his finger to his temple, rotating it in the classic rude gesture for crazy town.

The doctor looked taken aback, “No. That isn’t it.”

“Well then what is it doc?”

“He’s er…John Doe is dead. He died this morning of an aneurysm.”

“What?” Dean’s voice disappeared and he felt weak at the knees, “No…” he whispered hoarsely.

The doctor reached out, “You don’t know that it’s your brother.”

“Please doc, where can I see him?”

The doctor hesitated, “He’s still in processing. If you could go down to the…morgue…”

Dean shuddered not even wanting to _think_ …

He nodded jerkily, “Thanks doc,” he said and walked off without asking for directions to the morgue.

∞

It wasn’t Sam.

Not even close.

His hair was closely cropped and he was maybe 5’8”. His skin was pasty white rather than dusky and he had not even the suggestions of sideburns. There were no moles on his body nor any tattoo on his chest.

It wasn’t his brother.

Sam wasn’t lying dead in a morgue.

At least not _this_ morgue.

Dean physically batted that thought away, turning away from the body with a shake of his head.

“It’s not him,” he murmured to the morgue attendant as he hurried out of the room and down the hall where he’d seen the sign for a bathroom. He was gonna hurl all over the morgue corridor if he didn’t get there fast enough.

It was a close call, but he burst through the door and lurched toward the sink before emptying every meal he’d ever eaten into the bowl.

“Get it together Winchester,” he murmured to himself, “This isn’t even the first time Sam’s died. And he isn’t dead. He _isn’t_.”

He straightened up abruptly. There were other hospitals to search, but he didn’t think he could visit any more today. He needed to get drunk and get some sleep. Tomorrow, he would start again.

∞

Sam waited until nurse Alexandra went for her midnight coffee break. There was another nurse on the ward, but the patient in 4F was being conveniently fussy and he’d heard the nurses take turns going to calm them down. He had asked for crutches earlier, to ‘get started on his rehab’. He could see the sympathy on Nurse Emily’s face, assuming he wanted the crutches because he knew he would not be able to afford rehab and was on his own.

Well she was right.

But he also needed the crutches to get out of here.

He struggled out of bed pulling on his jeans over the metal pins in his leg, thanking his lucky stars that he was thin as fuck and his jeans were baggy as hell. He grabbed the coffee receipt from the bedside drawer - hoping maybe if he went back to the place it might jog his memory - and then walked out on his crutches. He needed to turn the corner before anyone came back to reception, which meant he had eight minutes or less. He thanked whoever was listening for the span of his limbs, ignored any pain he was feeling and shuffled as fast as possible down the hall. By the eeriest stroke of luck, the elevator opened as he reached it and he stepped in. He pressed the button for the basement.


	4. Survival of the Fittest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was lying against the side of a club, pounding drums almost shaking the building with the volume of the music. He could feel the vibrations against his back. It was oddly soothing. The song was pretty appropriate for this neighborhood too.
> 
> Murder She Wrote.

He was lying against the side of a club, pounding drums almost shaking the building with the volume of the music. He could feel the vibrations against his back. It was oddly soothing. The song was pretty appropriate for this neighborhood too.

_Murder She Wrote._

He’d seen at least one guy stabbed tonight…behind the dumpster he was diving. He’d crouched low as his leg would let him, heart pounding wildly as he waited for the thugs to take off. They were hardly more than kids; he’d seen them in the light from a second story window that opened onto the alley.

Still, they scared him with their dead eyes and ready fists. Something told him that he could maybe take them – but he wasn’t gonna risk it with his bum leg and taped ribs. He’d managed to avoid trouble so far and he didn’t want to change that.

When he heard their footsteps run away he waited a beat then limped over to the body. The least he could do for hiding like a coward was check if the guy was still alive.

He wasn’t.

He stared down at the corpse, wearing quite a warm looking coat.

He wasn’t using it anymore.

He felt an acid curl of shame in his belly for what he was thinking. Stealing from the dead? What kind of asshole did that? It was so cold though, and the jacket he had on wasn’t built for this weather. The guy’s coat though…that looked like it could keep him warm through the night.

_“Excuse Me!”_

He jumped, looking around frantically before realizing that it was just part of the song. Crouching down as much as his leg would allow, he wrestled the jacket off the dead guy and then put it on. He leaned back against the wall, taking a deep breath and wishing the dead guy well in his next life as he wrapped the coat closer.

He found a card in the pocket of the guy’s coat.

A business card.

He was tired of not having a name so he decided to take the name on the card.

Guy.

It seemed appropriate.

Guy Fieri.

An Italian name.

He was pretty sure he wasn’t Italian…they didn’t tend to top six feet if his memory served him.

Oh wait…it didn’t.

Guy chuckled to himself turning his head to watch the glittery drunk and high people walking in and out of the club. There was a couple copulating in shadows by the alley. He felt safe here. It was loud and happy. Nobody would try to murder him here.

Probably.

∞

“He was here yesterday but he disappeared in the night.”

The nurse was looking at him with such sympathy that Dean wanted to break her face. Her name tag said she was Emily and she’d taken one look at his photo of Sam and her eyes lit up before her whole body slumped forward and she groaned.

“What do you mean disappeared?” Dean asked trying his best not to put his hands around her neck and squeeze until she was dead.

Nurse Emily sighed, “He was supposed to be discharged soon but…well. He’d need rehab. He was sure that he was alone in the world. I did offer to have my boyfriend run his prints but he refused.”

_‘Well at least he was still thinking straight.’_ Dean thought before he really registered what she was saying.

“Wait. You mean he didn’t know who he was?”

“No. Retrograde amnesia. He was hit by a car, you know. Was pretty banged up.”

“ _How_ banged up?” Dean asked looming over her. It was all he could do not to grab her by her shirt collar and demand that she tell him everything. Well…she was telling him everything…but in such a leisurely manner like she didn’t know that every minute took Sam further and further away.

“Broken leg, broken ribs...a few other cuts and bruises. But those two were the major ones. You said his name was Sam?”

“If he didn’t know who he was, then where was he going?”

Nurse Emily shrugged, ignoring his rudeness just as he ignored her question, “Damned if I know.”

Dean’s eyes cut upwards, looking for cameras.

‘ _Bingo_.’ He thought triumphantly as he spotted them.

“Um, could you please direct me to your security room?” he said as politely as he could.

“Third floor, fifth door on your left. But they don’t really deal with civilians. You’d need to speak to the hospital admin to get any more info.”

Dean bared his teeth at her, “Thank you,” he gritted before walking away…

 ‘ _Fucking civilian_.’

∞

Dean watched Sam drag himself to the elevator and hit the button for the basement. From there he traced him to the end of the street by hacking various cameras. He looked thinner, weak, confused. Dean needed to find him like he needed air.

Where would Sam go?

∞

His leg was hurting like a motherfucker and he was afraid he’d damaged it again by walking on it too soon. He’d found a soup kitchen the day before and they had told him about a free clinic a few blocks away. He was afraid it’d take him the whole day to get there but what other choice was there? He couldn’t exactly take the bus. He had exactly zero dollars on him and the boys who had killed Guy  had taken his wallet.. It was bad enough he’d taken the dead guy’s coat and his name. He wasn’t about to pick his pockets as well. He wondered if ‘Guy Fieri’ had a family that was wondering what happened to him. He wondered if _he_ had a family…Maybe they were looking for him too. Maybe they didn’t know what had happened to him either…

It was a nice day dream anyway.

∞

Sam needed to go where he would blend in, or at least where his presence wouldn’t set off any alarms. Which meant the seedier side of town. Dean decided to drive around, looking for homeless shelters and soup kitchens. God, he had to catch a break! His brother needed him!

He drove downtown, parked his car and set off on foot.

His first stop was a catholic church where he spoke to a sweet old nun.

“I’m sorry young man, I haven’t seen him personally but there’s a soup kitchen no more than three blocks from here. You’d want to check there. Ask for Bernice.”

Dean nodded, “Thank you, Sister.”

“God bless.”

Dean took off at a fast clip, feeling a little more hopeful even as he tried to quash it. Just because some nun had said a few words of benediction over him didn’t mean he was gonna miraculously find his brother at this soup kitchen.

He knocked on the door of the building, looking around for someone to ask. A number of people were hard at work peeling stuff, washing pots and moving tables around. It was organized chaos. Dean walked up to one of the young men.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for Bernice?”

The man pointed to his right without turning his head and Dean followed the direction of his finger to see an overweight black woman sitting on a chair that looked way too small for her, ordering everyone about. Dean walked over to her, smiling deferentially.

“Excuse me ma’am, are you Bernice?”

The woman let her eyes travel from the spiky tips of Dean’s hair to the scuffed soles of his shoes, “Who’s asking?” she said.

“Sister Mary Francis sent me? I need your help. My name is Dean Winchester. I’m looking for my brother.”

Bernice sat up a bit straighter, “And what makes you think _I’ve_ seen him?”

“He was in an accident, lost his memory, ran out of the hospital with no money…he’s alone and probably hungry by now. I’m just hoping…” Dean’s voice broke and he dropped his eyes. And not all of it was an act.

“Do you have a pitcher?” Bernice asked after a moment of silence.

Dean burrowed in his pocket, handing her his phone where Sam’s visage stared from the last picture Dean took of him. Bernice stared for a long while and then grunted.

“From the hospital you say?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“On crutches?”

Dean straightened up, his eyes brightening; “ _Yes_!” he said leaning forward, _willing_ her to tell him where Sam was.

“Seemed like he was in pain so I sent him down to the free clinic on 106 and Park.”

“Oh. Was he uh, okay?”

Bernice gave him a massive side eye, “Like I said, seemed like he was in pain.”

Dean swallowed, and nodded. He hesitated, wondering if he should offer to pay her or something. Maybe put something in a donation jar?

“Go find your brother. Good luck.” She said as if reading his mind.

“Thank you,” he told her, meeting her eyes to convey his sincerity. She nodded shortly and turned away, immediately beginning to harangue someone who wasn’t doing something right.

Dean walked away quickly, using his phone to find the quickest direction to this free clinic. He thought about maybe going back for his car, but for one thing, he didn’t want to miss something by driving and two, it would waste time. So he set off at a fast clip, eyes scanning every single person he passed, praying.

∞

Guy leaned against the wall of the alley, resting his leg. He hadn’t even walked that far and he was so winded. His head fell back against the wall as he breathed slowly, in and out, willing the throbbing in his leg to go away. There was a large stone next to the dumpster in the alley and Guy made his way to it and lowered himself slowly, leg out straight in front of him. He sighed with relief, glad to get his weight off the leg but also despairing of ever reaching the clinic. He rummaged in his pocket for the remains of the biscuit he’d put in there yesterday when he had gone to the soup kitchen. Luckily it wasn’t just a bunch of crumbs in his pocket and he bit into it, closing his eyes to savor the bland taste.

“Sammy?”

He opened his eyes, seeing a tall man at the entrance to the alleyway, staring at him like he was a ghost. He didn’t know what the man wanted so he kept quiet and watched him. The man took a step into the alley and Guy picked up his crutch, pointing it at the guy like a gun.

“Stay back,” he said trying to sound threatening but knowing he was failing miserably.

“Sammy. It’s me. Dean.” The guy said holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. Guy watched him with suspicious eyes as he took another step closer, “I found you.”

The way that he said the last bit, as if he was about to burst into tears, made Guy lower his crutch. He watched the guy come closer, the sun was behind him so all he could see was a silhouette. He imagined the guy could see his face clearly though.

But how had he found him?

Was this the boyfriend who teased him about his bitch faces?

Or someone else?

The guy reached him, bent down and put his arms around Guy’s shoulders, pulling him close, holding him tight, “Don’t you do that to me again. Didn’t I tell you that already?” he growled, his voice hoarse and sounding wet with tears. Guy let the man hold him, breathing in his scent. He leaned into the man, feeling oddly safe.

The guy – Dean? – stepped back and looked down at him, eyes lingering on his leg.

“Damn it, Sammy,” he murmured.

“Sammy? That’s my name?” Guy, no, Sam apparently, asked.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s your name,” the guy answered, his voice all soft, gentle and choked up.

Sam was not alone after all.

∞

Dean had almost walked right past him.

He couldn’t believe he’d almost walked right past Sam!

He’d been ambling along, eyes sweeping back and forth, and taking note of every person he passed. Sam shouldn’t be hard to spot; he was on crutches after all. That was if he was even on this route. Maybe he had already been and gone from the free clinic. Or had opted not to go. Or was lying de-

Dean had cut off that thought as ruthlessly as he would kill a demon. There was no time for that kind of shit. He’d walked past the alley, his eyes flicking automatically down it, noting the dumpster and the homeless guy sitting besi-

He stopped short, taking a few steps back and peering into the alley. Shaggy brown hair, long thin body, crutches.

Sammy.

Sitting in a dirty alley, probably eating something from the dumpster.

There was a burning pain in Dean’s chest which he didn’t know what to do with even as the rest of his body slumped in relief.

Sammy.

He had found him.

∞

“Are you sure I’m Sammy? How did you find me?”

The guy, Dean, fished his phone out of his pocket, clicked at it for a second and then showed the screen to Sam. He stared at the picture, recognizing the face from the hospital’s bathroom mirror.

The same, but different.

This face knew who he was. His eyes were clear and stared with confidence into the camera like he was right where he belonged. His body seemed to lean unconsciously toward the man standing next to him though they weren’t touching in any way. This man’s hands were in his pockets, one leg curled in on the other as they both leaned against a black car. The man beside him, Dean, was smiling. His body also leaned toward Sam and he looked kinda smug. Like he as saying “Yeah I know, he’s gorgeous. He’s also mine.”

Not that…Sammy…thought he was gorgeous. It just looked like what the guy…Dean…was thinking. Or something along those lines. In any case, he seemed really happy to be with Sammy.

“What’s my full name?” he asked the man who held the phone, eyes still on the photo.

“Sam Winchester,” Dean said and Sam looked up at him, nodding. Yeah, that sounded right.

“And you are…?” he asked.

The man’s impossibly long lashes swept downwards, hiding his brilliant green eyes like he didn’t want Sam to see how much it hurt that he didn’t know him. Sam knew it anyway and he reached out, curling his hand along Dean’s bicep, saying sorry in the only way he knew how.

“I’m Dean. Dean Winchester.”

Sam froze.

So he _was_ married.

To this beautiful specimen of a man.

His eyes dropped to Dean’s ring finger, seeing it as empty as his own. He couldn’t understand it. He felt like he was the possessive sort and would definitely want his very attractive husband to wear something that let everyone else know he was off limits.

“How…How did you lose me?” he asked, keeping a grip on the man’s bicep. Dean made a hurt sound and his eyes slipped away, his whole being radiating shame.

“I…fell asleep. When I woke up, you were gone.”

Sam’s brow furrowed, trying to imagine what could possibly have caused him to leave this guy long enough to go out and get hit by a car.

“Maybe I was ravenous?” he murmured mostly to himself, mind on the last few days of gnawing hunger. But no, he hadn’t had his wallet on him when he was found, “Why would I just leave  like that?”

Dean just stared at him, eyes narrowed.

∞

Clearly, Sam did not remember that he was haunted by Lucifer.

“How have you been sleeping lately?” Dean asked just to be sure.

“Uh…fine?” The puzzled frown on Sam’s forehead said all that Dean needed to hear. Sam’s memory loss apparently included the fact that his mind was a wasteland of hell mania and psychedelic devils, insomnia and a slow descent into outright madness.

Silver lining.

_‘To tell him or not to tell him?’_ Dean wondered.

But what if he told Sam the truth and all his psychoses came crashing back?

“Listen, I’m gonna go…and get the car okay? You just keep sitting here, don’t move, and I’ll be right back.” He said instead, pushing his worries to the back of his mind. Plenty of time to worry about that later. Sam’s hand tightened on his arm.

“Wait.”

Dean stopped mid turn, recognizing that tone of voice even if Sam didn’t.

“What is it, Sammy?” he asked already bracing himself for something _else_ to cope with.

“There’s something you have to know.” Sam said, his face all serious.

Dean straightened his shoulders, bracing himself.

“What?” he asked.

∞

Sam had a baby.

Dean stared at it in utter disbelief.

“How- when?” he mumbled eyes bugging out of his head.

“I…it…you won’t believe me.” Sam said.

“Try me.”

Sam eyed him as if he was trying to read something there that would give him the confidence to continue. Dean tried to look as trustworthy as possible under the scrutiny and eventually Sam sighed, relaxing his shoulders a little as the baby on his back stared at Dean with unblinking curiosity.

∞

“When I left the hospital three days ago, I had no idea where to go or who I was so I just turned left and began walking. I wanted to get as far away from the hospital as fast as I could.”

Dean was nodding his approval at this plan and Sam relaxed further. Somehow, instinctively, he’d known that he needed to run.

“Anyway, so I was hobbling along, keeping to back roads and alleyways. I was getting tired and I just wanted to find somewhere where I could sit down for a while.”

Dean’s eyes flicked down to the wires sticking out of his leg and winced. It made something in Sam soften and even though he’d believed Dean right away, he also knew, now, that he loved the man before him.

Like, a lot.


	5. Oops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, jump to the part where you got a baby.” Dean interrupted.  
> Sam looked down, trying to find the words.

“Okay, jump to the part where you got a baby.” Dean interrupted.  
Sam looked down, trying to find the words.  
“It was…I…I think I fell asleep. If it wasn’t for the kid, I would be sure I dreamed the whole thing.”  
“Get on with it, Sam,” Dean said and Sam looked up, realizing that Dean was losing all patience with him.  
“I fell asleep in an alleyway and woke up to these two…things. Fighting. Except not with guns and knives. They…” Sam trailed off, unable to describe the flying bolts of lightning that smelled like ozone and filled the alleyway with light, highlighting the glowing eyes of the two combatants. Who would believe such shit? They’d think he was on some acid trip or something.  
Dean crouched down so he could look Sam in the eye, “Go on,” he said.  
“They weren’t…human,” Sam said slowly, looking anywhere but at Dean, “They killed each other and then the baby was there, screaming. Except that the baby’s eyes were glowing too.”  
Dean stared at the baby on Sam’s back, “So you figured the best thing to do was pick it up and adopt it?”  
“Him not it. His name is Jack,” Sam corrected.  
Dean frowned.  
“Look…Dean…I realize we probably should have talked about it before I went adopting a baby but I didn’t remember you existed so…we’re just gonna have to deal with it.” Sam said reaching out a tentative hand to cup Dean’s jaw, “We can deal with it right? I mean…you love me right?”  
He could feel how wide his eyes were, full of hope. He didn’t want to lose this guy when he’d just found him. But he couldn’t abandon the kid and he couldn’t take him to an orphanage or a church. They’d probably kill him like it was a monster. For some reason, Sam couldn’t stand the thought of that happening.   
And Sam knew Jack wasn’t a monster.   
He was just a baby.  
Dean was staring at him, something speculative in his eyes that Sam couldn’t read. But he didn’t look mad. Sam clung to that.  
∞  
Sam had lost his mind.  
And even without his mind, he was still picking up strays. All Dean had to do was turn his back for one minute, and Sam had some stray he needed to take care of.  
Fuck!  
Dean stared at the kid, wondering what it was. He would have to do all the tests. Silver, holy water, iron, hell he had no idea. Sam didn’t seem to remember that monsters were real. He didn’t know they hunted monsters for a living. And even with all that, he had still managed to find a baby monster to raise.  
He was like a monster magnet.  
And Dean was at a loss as to what to do next.  
He stood up, looking down at his brother.  
“Sit here. Imma get the car, get you some medical help and then we can talk about the rest.”  
∞  
Dean was very solicitous of his welfare, yet at the same time so offhand. He took them to some doctor named Roberts at the back of a butcher shop in Chinatown of all places. The office was small and dingy but at least there was a place for Sam to rest his leg. Sam lay on a makeshift bed while they examined Jack on a child-sized bed that had been hidden under a table. First, Doctor-or-whatever-he-was Roberts checked his leg and then checked the baby over.   
Sam couldn’t see what exactly they did with Jack. At one point, the baby let out a cry and then the doctor and the nurse were flying across the room. Nobody seemed fazed by this development though. Dean just stood on the other side of the baby’s bed, watching as the doc and the nurse got to their feet and walked back to them. Sam had his foot up in a sling because he’d apparently developed edema, so he had to lay with his leg up like this as they examined the baby. Otherwise he would have been right beside Jack. The kid was his responsibility.  
Yet somehow he didn’t think Dean would let them hurt Jack.  
Instinctively he knew Jack wouldn’t let them hurt him.  
Still…shouldn’t they be more freaked out?  
Or was this normal and he’d just forgotten?  
“Dean?” he called holding out his hand for his husband.  
Dean turned, eyebrow raised. His eyes fell on Sam’s hand and he was right at Sam’s bedside the next moment.  
“What’s up?” he asked, taking Sam’s proffered hand.  
Sam squeezed Dean’s hand, feeling better to have him close, “What are they doing to the baby?” he whispered.  
“Trying to find out what it is?”  
“What?”  
“Yeah ‘what’. You know it isn’t totally human, don’t you Sam?”  
Sam just narrowed his eyes at him, “Why aren’t you more freaked out about this?” he asked.  
Dean sighed, closing his eyes and then opening them again, “I can’t tell you that Sam. You’re supposed to remember it for yourself.”  
“I am?” Sam asked surprised.  
“If I told you, how would you know if what you were remembering was real or just what I told you?”  
“What if I never remember?”  
Dean looked away, “That might be for the best.”  
“Dean…?” It was amazing how normal it was to say this man’s name. To turn to him for all the answers.   
It felt comfortable.   
Normal.   
Familiar.   
He reached out, running a hand down Dean’s arm.  
“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered, hand lingering on Dean’s wrist.  
Dean watched Sam’s fingers trace circles around his wrist like he’d never seen it before. Sam watched Dean watch his fingers, wondering if he didn’t normally do this. Touch his husband lovingly. Dean looked so…startled.  
He circled Dean’s wrist with his hand, and pulled him down, clearly surprising him with the move because he lurched forward like a puppet with its strings cut. He reached up, touching his lips to Dean’s, letting him know that he was here, he was alive, and he still wanted…whatever it was that they had. He wanted Dean to know he didn’t have to be gentle, or distant, or careful. Dean had walked the streets of this Podunk town looking for him. He’d accepted the addition of Rosemary’s baby into their family without so much as blinking. Whatever Dean felt for him, he knew it was real. And he knew he returned the feeling.  
Dean was stiff in his arms, almost like all of this was a shock. Sam smiled against his mouth - while worrying a little that he might have made Dean doubt his feelings in the past - pulling him in tighter, but not trying to use his tongue to gain entrance into Dean’s mouth.  
Not yet.  
He just wanted Dean to know he was open to…whatever.  
He sucked gently at Dean’s bottom lip, savoring the different scents that made up the entity that was Dean Winchester. If he had to guess, he could distinguish the distant tang of whisky still sweating gently out of his pores, the strong bitter aroma of coffee against his lips, the burned leather feel of his lips as if he’d been out in the sun too long…it was rather intoxicating. Yet, at the same time, comforting and safe. It was the smell of home and Sam burrowed into it with absolutely no hesitation at all.  
“Uh…” the doctor said sounding shocked and suddenly Dean’s lips were gone and he was pushing Sam back down even as he turned to the doctor and shook his head.  
“What-” the doctor began to say but Dean spoke over him.  
“Do we know what it is yet?” he asked. Sam could see his chest heaving discreetly even as he strove to flatten his tone and his hand remained on Sam’s chest, holding him down. There was a slight tremble in that hand and Sam’s own lifted seemingly of its own accord and circled it. He squeezed gently, letting Dean know that he was here for him.  
“His name is Jack, Dean. He’s not an it,” he said reproachfully even as he lifted Dean’s hand and kissed it.  
“Right,” Dean said, that tremble still there in his voice if you were listening for it, “he.”  
Sam was distracted by the network of veins in Dean’s hand, the freckles on his skin, that tiny scar that ran from the middle of his hand to his wrist. What had happened? Sam lifted the hand and ran his cheek against it. He wanted to know about every blemish, every scar, and every mark that life had left on his husband’s skin.  
The doctor and the nurse were staring like they’d never seen a couple be affectionate with each other. Sam frowned at them and just then, Jack let out an annoyed squawk.  
Everyone’s attention returned to the baby and Sam closed his eyes to rest. He was so damn tired.  
∞  
Dean paced back and forth, occasionally shivering from the cold. They couldn’t leave the butchery yet and he’d needed some time alone…so here he was.   
In the freezer.   
With the meat.   
Sure it was cold as fuck and it was all he could do to not collapse from the shivering. But he needed to think think, think, think!  
For some reason Sam thought their relationship warranted kissing.  
On the lips.  
And touching.  
Like they were sappy high school students discovering their first loves.  
Dean absolutely had no idea what to do.  
I mean…obviously they needed to discuss this.  
Clear the air.  
The problem was, with no idea what Sam’s mental state was, and the ever present specter of the wall breakage in his mind hurtling back to plunge him back to the brink of madness…Dean needed to tread so carefully.  
And then there was the damned monster kid…  
It was such a huge, terrible cluster fuck. Dean felt a sinking in his chest, missing Bobby’s counsel like a phantom limb. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?  
∞  
The house Dean took them to looked like a dump. Sam was pretty sure they were squatting there or something. He might not have any memories of what a home looked like, but he was pretty sure it didn’t consist of abandoned looking furniture and a big foreclosed sign in the front yard. There was a single bedstead in one of the rooms, with an old ratty looking mattress on top of it.  
“There’s nowhere for Jack to sleep,” Sam commented. Dean gave him a massive side eye before crossing to the chest of drawers and pulling one out.  
“I think he’s small enough to fit in here,” he said speculatively.  
Sam narrowed his eyes at him, “We’re not putting our baby in a drawer!” he blurted out without thought.  
Dean’s eyebrow went up, “Our baby?”  
Sam could feel his face heat, “You know what I mean,” he mumbled.  
Dean sighed, gesturing at the bed, “Hey, why don’t you uh, put the baby down to rest and then we can go discuss this in the other room.”  
Sam snorted in amusement, “It’s not like the baby can understand if we talk in here.”  
“Fine. But put him down. And sit down. You’re not supposed to be on your feet for so long.”  
Sam lowered himself onto the bed because yeah, his leg was starting to throb, and put little Jack in the midst of the pillows, hoping the mattress was thick enough to be comfortable.  
“So…we’re kind of like really poor huh?” he said.  
Dean sat down on a rickety stool opposite Sam, and stared at him, “You don’t remember a single thing do you?”  
Sam shook his head.  
“Can you tell me why I was out on the street by myself late at night? I’ve been trying to figure out how I got hit.”  
Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again. He opened it, and then closed it, looking lost. Sam felt the need to help him out. He didn’t like to see that look on Dean’s face.  
“Did we have a fight? It’s okay if we did. I mean…I won’t hold a grudge,” he smiled encouragingly, hoping Dean would smile back at him. But all Dean did was look down at his fingers, face even more bleak.  
“Dean..?”  
His husband sighed, “You, er, you tend to have insomnia.” He said and then lifted his head suddenly eyes glittering like jewels, “How is that now? Are you sleeping?”  
Sam nodded slowly, completely distracted by Dean’s eyes, “I’m fine,” he said absently, wondering how he ever got anything done with those eyes regarding him like that. Maybe that's why they were poor. Because they spent all day just looking into each other’s eyes. Sam could think of worse ways to spend his time.  
“Good,” Dean said and Sam had to work hard to remember what the fuck they’d been talking about.  
“So I used to have insomnia and then go walkabout?” he asked with a smile. Old him was a fool, he could think of much better ways to spend his time if he couldn’t sleep. But maybe Dean had been too tired.  
Dean took a deep breath, “Let’s just say that you would…try to outrun it.”  
“Huh. And…we stay here all the time or are we just passing through?”  
Dean covered his face with his hands, scratching his fingers through his hair like he was super stressed. Sam had a feeling Dean was keeping some huge things from him. He stood up, limping toward the other man and lifted Dean’s head slowly, so he could look in his eyes.  
“Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me. We’ll deal with it,” he said gently, drowning in the tortured pools of emerald before him. Then he straightened up as a thought occurred to him, his face sobering, “that is, as long as you’re not cheating on me.”  
Dean blanched, his hand coming up to encircle Sam’s wrist, “Sam? What exactly do you think our relationship is?” he asked.  
Sam let out a surprised laugh because to him it was so obvious, “We’re married obviously…since we have the same name.”  
“Married…” Dean repeated as if he’d never heard of such a thing.  
“Well…yeah. I mean, we love each other right?”  
Dean just stared up at him, mouth open.  
∞  
Dean felt like he was a cartoon character, frantically trying to keep up with a series of rapidly occurring events and failing miserably. It was like he had complex mathematical equations flashing in front of his eyes that he was supposed to solve post haste and all he could see were squiggles and lines.  
What was he supposed to do?  
Tell Sam everything and hope for the best?  
Or tell him nothing and just see what happened?  
Was it either or?  
Clearly he needed to say something since Sam had gotten the complete wrong end of the stick. Though why his mind would jump straight to them being married was a mystery for another day. Suddenly he just needed to get away. To not be here. That was kind of a first where Sammy was concerned. Usually he was content to just be…wherever Sam was.  
He sighed, turning abruptly and headed for the living room.  
“Sam?” he whispered, watching his brother who had gone back to the bed and was curled all protective around the little sleeping bundle.  
Sam lifted his head slightly from the pillow, raising his eyebrow at Dean.  
“I’m going out,” Dean said, hating how he sounded like he was asking permission.  
“Where?” Sam asked.  
“Umm, just out. I need some air,” Dean straightened up from where he was leaning on the door jamb, “I’ll see y’all later.”  
“Uh…Dean?” Sam called, sounding uncannily like his old self.  
“Yeah, Sam?” Dean said wheeling around like Sam had him on a hook.  
“We need diapers. And formula.”  
“Oh,” Dean replied nonplussed, “Okay. I’ll make sure to pick some up.”  
“Thanks.”  
“Okay, see ya.” Dean turned away again.  
“Dean!”  
And again his body was turning around before he could think, “What?”  
“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”  
Dean just stared at him, mouth open, unable to form words. Sam sat up on the bed, one leg moving painstakingly to the side as if he meant to stand up and come claim the kiss if Dean wouldn’t give it to him.  
“Uuuuhhh,” Dean said backing away.  
“Dean,” this time Sam’s voice was soft, sounding hurt at Dean’s perceived rejection and Dean’s body was reacting before he could think. He swallowed the three steps that would take him to Sam’s side, hand on Sam’s shoulder before he could move any further.  
“Hey, calm down. Lay back down, you’re supposed to be resting.”  
“Dean,” Sam said and his brother knew that tone well. He reached down, pressed his lips to Sam’s, held it for a moment and then stepped back.  
“There. I’ve kissed you. Can I go now?”  
Sam smiled and shrugged one shoulder, “Okay,” he said.  
Dean sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned away. Sam might not remember anything about his past, but he was the same old bitch he always was.  
Dean’s lips tingled and he used every bit of self control not to reach a finger up and touch them. This was the second time his lips had touched Sam’s in such a way. This time he’d initiated it. Granted, because of Sam’s insistence but still. It was…weird.  
Weird because it didn’t feel weird at all.  
‘Just add that to the hundred other things that are weird about our lives,’ he thought with a resigned shrug.  
Maybe it was because Sam couldn’t remember and Dean couldn’t stop musing even as he tried to dismiss it. He looked up, realizing that he was walking. He’d left the car behind. That meant he was planning on getting so drunk he’ll likely end up dancing on a table, naked.  
‘Is that a good idea though?’ the voice in his head that sounded like his dad asked.  
‘Fuck off,’ Dean thought and then kind of jumped. Even in his head, he never spoke to his father like that. This situation was getting him all fucked up.  
∞  
Sam checked the clock on the phone Dean had left him. It was getting late and his husband still wasn’t back. The baby had woken up and began to cry and Sam hadn’t known want to do. He couldn’t go to the store because he had no money…as far as he knew. But he knew the baby was hungry so he limped to the kitchen and peered into the cupboards, trying to see what was available. He found a can of peas, another of ravioli. He sighed.  
This wasn’t exactly baby food.  
He warmed some of the peas and mashed them and then added warm water to further soften it.  
“How old are you Jack? Can you digest peas?” he asked as he spooned the green liquid into the kid’s mouth. Jack was watching him with a fixed gaze as if he could understand everything Sam was saying. Jacked opened his mouth and let Sam spoon feed him, his eyes never leaving Sam’s.  
Sam smiled at him as he scooped another spoonful of soggy peas, “There’s my good boy. Eat for daddy,” he murmured softly, smiling so hard at the little boy. Jack let out a laugh, pumping his tiny fists in the air like he was happy to be a good boy.  
“Yes, who’s a good boy, now? Who’s the best boy?” Sam cooed as he fed him another spoonful. Jack opened eagerly for it and Sam was both gratified at his appetite and upset at himself for not feeding the baby sooner. What if he was eating the liquid peas because he was starving and not because he liked them? Sam got more and more upset at the thought, thinking back to his days on the street, the constant gnawing hunger of never having enough. He felt a lump in his throat as he scrambled for the phone.  
He didn’t know Dean’s number but luckily his name was practically the only one on his call list. He hit the call button viciously, breathing hard as he waited for Dean to answer.  
“Yeah, Sam?”  
The casualness of Dean’s greeting enraged Sam further, “Where are you? We have a baby who needs to be fed!” he growled into the phone before he registered the background noises. Bottles clinking together, talk, laughter, female laughter…pretty close by.  
“Are you…you’re in a bar aren’t you?” he accused, his voice so high he wasn’t sure Dean could hear him, “You left us home alone and went to a bar? Is this why we were fighting before my accident? Because you’re an inconsiderate asshole?” Sam screamed.  
Jack’s mouth was turning down and his face was getting red. He looked like he was preparing to really start wailing.  
“Now hol’ up…where is this comin’ from Sammy. I’m just havin’ a lil’ fun.” Dean’s words were slurred and he was clearly drunk.  
“Did you even get the diapers, you asshole?” Sam growled and then hung up on Dean’s mumbling as Jack began to cry.  
He bounced Jack up and down, muttering nonsense words interspersed with insults directed towards his husband in the most soothing tone he could muster.  
“Wish I could walk you up and down,” he told the kid and then gestured regretfully at his leg, “Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to settle for bouncing up and down. At least until my leg is healed.” He smiled down at the kid who was back to staring up at him like he understood every word.  
“Did anyone ever tell you you’re just about the cutest thing that ever existed?” he asked Jack and the baby smiled. Jack reached up, his tiny hand, grasping Sam’s chin firmly. Sam smiled.  
“You like that huh? You like my chin?” he murmured.  
Suddenly there was a golden light emanating from Jack’s hand and his eyes glowed gold as well. Sam froze, wondering what…  
The metal pins in his leg fell out and he could feel his flesh knit back into place. There was no pain anymore.  
He was healed.  
“Fuck” he whispered.  
∞  
Dean came barreling into the house thirty minutes later, swaying drunkenly and brandishing a pack of diapers and formula in his hand.  
“Who’s hungry?” he yelled and then just stopped as he saw Sam standing in the living room space, hands on his hips, eyes narrowed balefully.  
“Uh,” Dean said and he dropped his packages on the floor.  
“Hey Dean,” Sam snarled, “How was your day darling?”  
Dean was hyperventilating. He blinked rapidly, looking Sam up and down and then his eyes shifted to the metal pins on the floor, which still lay where they had fallen.  
“What’s happening? Am I tripping?” he asked.  
Sam took a step towards him, “Do you trip often?” he asked as if he really wanted to know.  
“Not that I’m aware of,” Dean said absently, his eyes still on Sam as he took a step towards him, “How are you…?” he gestured at Sam’s standing frame and the metal pins on the floor.  
Sam took a breath and looked away, “Jack,” he said, “Jack made me better.”  
Dean dropped where he stood, landing on an armchair more by luck than intent, “Holy shit,” he said.  
Sam sighed turning toward Dean, “Look I know this is like, mind boggling or whatever, but it doesn’t excuse what you did, Dean. How could you leave a starving baby and an injured, and also hungry, husband alone to go get drunk?” his voice rose with every word.  
Dean stared at him. He was too drunk for this, “You’re not my husband,” he said.  
Sam stared; eyebrow raised incredulously, “What? Of course I am. We have the same last name.”  
Dean rolled his eyes, “That’s cause we’re brothers dumbass,” he said.  
Sam stared at him some more, unable to compute what he was saying, “But that’s not true. We’re in love. Brothers don’t fall in love.”  
“That’s not…we’re not in love.”  
“Don’t tell me how I feel, Dean!”  
Dean sighed, feeling tired, “Look, Sam-”  
“No! Don’t you ‘look, Sam’ me! If you have cold feet because of all the strange things happening that’s one thing. But don’t try to lie to me Dean. Just because I lost my memories doesn’t mean I lost my feelings. I know how I feel and I know you feel it too. And don’t think this lets you off the hook for going off and leaving us alone!”  
Sam bent down, picked up the diapers and formula and stormed off.


	6. Sighhh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so Sam didn’t believe him. That was a curveball Dean wasn’t expecting. Even in his _slightly_ inebriated state, which caused him to have a looser tongue than he’d intended, it still came as a shock. Sam just seemed so _sure_. It made Dean wonder if maybe he was the one who was crazy

Okay, so Sam didn’t believe him. That was a curveball Dean wasn’t expecting. Even in his _slightly_ inebriated state, which caused him to have a looser tongue than he’d intended, it still came as a shock. Sam just seemed so _sure_. It made Dean wonder if maybe he was the one who was crazy.

 _‘But we’re in love...’_ the words reverberated around in his head like a tolling bell of doom. What did Sam see, that made him so sure that was the case? He hadn’t said, “ _I’m_ in love.” He’d said, “ _We’re_ in love.”

They knew each other well, could guess what the other was thinking with a single glance, even had a tendency to say the same thing at the same time. What if this…whatever Sam was seeing, had always been there, lurking just out of sight, waiting for one of them to be uninhibited enough to acknowledge it?

Dean dismissed these musings as the ravings of a man who’d had a little too much weed and not enough food.

It didn’t matter what Sam _thought._ The _facts_ spoke for themselves.

Still.

He found that he was a bit shaky on just what exactly they meant to each other now. He felt like he had that one time when he realized that Kevin from _The Office_ looked exactly like a seal and afterwards, he couldn’t unsee it.

_‘We cater to people of all ages, races or sexual orientations.’_

_‘King or two queens?’_

_‘Are you here antiquing?’_

_‘Those brothers are physically, emotionally, homoerotically dependent on each other.’_

_‘What about the homoerotic subtext of supernatural?’_

The many times people – and asshole angels – had ‘mistaken’ them for something they weren’t flitted through his mind, making his forehead furrow with worry. Did they see something Sam and he hadn’t? And now _Sam_ saw it? What did it mean?

The baby’s wailing startled him out of his reverie and he was heading towards the bedroom before he could think about it. Sam was pacing, bouncing the baby up and down as he murmured soothing nonsense to it.

“Is he alright?” Dean asked, voice croaky like he hadn’t spoken for days.

Sam glanced up at him without breaking stride and then back down at the baby.

“He’s fine. I think he was just upset about wetting his diaper and having to lie around in smelly pee. Isn’t that right Jack? Isn’t that right?” Sam said in that sing song voice people usually used with babies.

It was more surreal seeing Sam taking care of a baby than imagining they were in love. Sam was always _the_ baby. The one to be looked after. To see him so adept at taking care of someone else really brought home to Dean that his baby was all grown up.

And in love with him apparently.

Whatever he did, he couldn’t get away from that thought.

He cleared his throat, searching for words.

“Sam-?” he began.

“Dean?” Sam said over him, “Don’t.”

Dean sighed looking around for some inspiration. This Sam didn’t know that Dean’s word was law. That they did things because he said so.

“Can I help?” he tried.

Sam stopped pacing and stared at him, as if trying to judge the sincerity of his request.

“Why?” Sam asked eventually.

“Because you’ve been doing a lot of heavy lifting and I just want to help. So why don’t you sit down and read a book and I’ll take care of the kid?”

“Do you even know how?” Sam’s eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

Dean couldn’t help it. He burst into laughter.

“ _Trust_ me. I have plenty of experience.”

That didn’t seem to soothe Sam’s nerves, “What’s _that s_ upposed to mean?”

Dean sighed, reaching for the kid before Sam could jerk him away, “You don’t wanna know,” he said.

Sam stared, eyes still narrowed, “You telling me you have some love child out there?”

Dean shouted with laughter. This was too funny. In fact, now that he thought of it, this might qualify as the funniest conversation they’d ever had.

“Dean!” Sam growled seemingly ready to commit violence.

“ _I don’t have a love child_!” Dean snorted, “God Sam. You’re such a naggy wife. Who knew?”

“So you admit we’re married?”

Dean sighed again, “We might as well be. Now go take a load off. I’ll put the little shit machine to sleep.”

Sam watched with folded arms and narrowed eyes for a while as Dean rocked little Jack to sleep. After a while, he had to admit, if only to himself that Dean did indeed know what he was doing and he turned abruptly to leave the room in a puff of self-righteous pique.

Dean couldn’t help laughing some more.

∞

Dean hadn’t really thought the sleeping arrangements through.

Sure there were plenty of rooms, but just one bed. He hadn’t even gotten an extra mattress for Sam. Hell, he’d been too caught up in the hunt to think about what would happen after he found Sam. He’d figured they’d light out of this town as soon as they were together again.

They still needed to go soon.

Leviathans were still on their tail after all. And he had a date with Dick Roman that needed to be kept. This amnesia thing just made everything else that much more complicated. Either way it was a devil’s bargain. Either he had a brother who didn’t know who he was and assumed, nay insisted that they were married. Or he had crazy Sam Winchester, complete with stalker demon and chronic insomnia, knock knock knocking on death’s door.

Actually when he thought about it that way, there really was only one choice.

Amnesiac!Sam it was.

He’d even go down to city hall and make their marriage official.

But right now, there were sleeping arrangements to worry about.

The bed was wide enough theoretically.

For two brothers sharing a mattress it was fine.

For possible ‘husbands’, it was a minefield.

Sam came out of the bathroom, dressed in sleep pants and no shirt. His hair was wet from the shower and he was wiping it down with the towel, face hidden from view. Dean stared, noticing that his brother was thinner than he’d been, his muscles more chorded and defined, ribs sticking out more than Dean was comfortable with.

“Like what you see?”

He looked up to see his brother grinning lecherously at him. He just stared, never having had that look directed at him. In fact, now that he thought about it, he’d never seen Sam give _anyone_ this particular look. He was always the epitome of gentlemanly chivalry. This animal staring at Dean like he would be up for some low down dirty sex was not a creature Dean had ever seen before. Sam took a step toward him and Dean was too frozen to run. But he wanted to. He wanted life to go back to simpler days when his whole focus was on Dick - and not the one on his brother’s body.

His brother threw the towel aside, and it landed on the dirty floor. Dean almost reached down to pick it up before he remembered that Sam was an adult who could pick up his own towels.

Then there was a long muscled thigh in his field of vision as Sam climbed into his lap like he belonged there. Long elegant hands ran up and down his arm as the chest in front of him rose and fell with increasing rapidity, as if the body it held was excited, was producing more adrenaline as a result, pumping blood faster and harder to every part of the body on his lap, especially to his groin.

“Dean…”

He said it real different that time. He _definitely_ had never heard Sam use this tone. Not with him, not with anyone. It wasn’t a tone you used with anyone you weren’t about to pound into a mattress to within an inch of their lives.

“I-I thought you were mad at me,” he whispered, surprised that the words even came out his desiccated mouth.

“I was. But I’m also horny as fuck and I don’t see why I should have to punish myself because you’re an asshole,” Sam said as he leaned in and licked a stripe up Dean’s neck. He literally _could not_ help the shiver that shook him from head to toe.

“Umm, I always told you you should get laid more often,” the joke came out of Dean’s mouth without any input from his brain.

It was a knee jerk reflex.

Get uncomfortable.

Joke about it.

“You do? Well then why don’t you do something about it?” Sam said in the same tone, like they were flirting or something.

Dean took a deep breath, looking for the words that would get Sam off his lap, but not out of his life. He opened his mouth, hoping the right thing would simply fall out, but before anything had a chance, Sam was cleaning his tonsils.

With his tongue.

It was surprisingly not…bad.

He’d never kissed a guy before.

Sure there’d been that experimental phase during Sam’s college years when he’d gone out to the back of that bar with the pretty transvestite, but all _he’d_ wanted was to suck Dean’s cock.

 _This_ guy though…

This guy was surprisingly more adept at kissing than someone who spent three quarters of his life buried in a book should be. He was very… _very_ thorough in making sure he’d licked, bitten at, sucked and tasted every corner of Dean’s hapless mouth.

It would have been so rude for Dean not to at least lick back. Sure he was a good looking son of a gun, and kissing him was its own reward, but he wasn’t that guy who lay there like a log and let his partner do all the work. He was well mannered; a well brought up sort of sex fiend. And his sexual equipment was very much on board with the relentless, passionate, lustful kissing happening in Dean’s mouth.

Fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It would help very much if the baby began to cry right about now.

Sam’s hand trailed down his body, landing unerringly on Dean’s tumescent dick. Dean jerked in shock, never in life ever having imagined that Sam Winchester would deliberately put a hand on his dick…and squeeze his balls, and then gently massage his already hard dick into tempered steel.

This. Was. Not. Good.

“Dean.”

Nobody. Seriously nobody. Should sound that hungry. At least not while saying his name.

_‘Sam. Stop.’_

The words reverberated through his mind but could find no outlet since his mouth was currently extremely occupied.

What was happening?

He gathered every last iota of his will and pulled away from Sam.

“Sa-” he began to say but Sam’s mouth was back on his so fast his head was spinning. He was usually _very good_ at standing his ground. Unshakeable at it.

Except where Sam was concerned.

He was still working on saying no to his baby brother. A thing made more difficult to do when his baby brother’s tongue was down his throat. Sam pushed him backward so he was lying on the bed instead of sitting on it, Sam’s warm, aroused length on top of him. His hands lifted of their own accord and ran down Sam’s naked back.

The sounds of pleasure Sam made in response had his dick jumping like it was in the club.

How did they _get_ here?

“God Dean, want you so much. Fuck me now,” Sam said letting go of his lips at last to run his lips down Dean’s neck, fingers working to get beneath Dean’s shirt and take it off.

“N-no,” Dean said, the word torn from his lips like those children at the border from their parent’s arms.

“W-What?” Sam froze, lifting his head and staring down at Dean like he could not believe his ears.

“We can’t,” Dean replied though every word pained him.

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t know who I am and right now you’re just using my body for relief. That’s not gonna happen Sam.”

Sam stared at him, eyes wide with shock, “But…”

“No Sam. You and me will behave circumspectly until such a time as you can give your whole self to me, knowing full well who I am to you.”

Dean thought it was brilliant if he did say so himself. Thank god Sam didn’t know him well enough to laugh in his face. Thank God and the opposite of that too. In fact, fuck everything. He wanted his brother back. The one, who remembered him, supported him even with a mental illness, who could help him figure all this out.

He missed _Sam_.

[](https://imgbb.com/)


	7. It’s Too Much Madness for One Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam had thought he’d been in love with Dean before.

Sam had thought he’d been in love with Dean before.

But now, he couldn’t even describe his feelings. He’d seen the sadness in Dean’s eyes when he said he wanted them to make love when Sam knew who he was. It touched him in ways he couldn’t even describe. While he’d been sure there were strong feelings between them before, now he knew he would die for his husband.

In a heartbeat.

He lay stiffly, erection making it impossible for him to fall asleep. He didn’t want to touch it. He didn’t want to relieve himself. He wanted to feel the full force of Dean’s rejection because he knew his husband was lying next to him in the same state.

It was all for a very good cause.

Who knew, maybe the lack of oxygen to his brain brought about through lack of blood flow would help him remember. And the sooner he remembered, the sooner they could…

Sam shuddered, eyes closed as he felt his orgasm engulf him like a wave. Just from the thought of having Dean inside him at last. It would be so good when it happened.

Sam just knew it.

“Sam? You okay?” Dean asked, sounding not at all sleepy.

“I’m great,” Sam said, hoping Dean could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay…” he sound questioning, like he couldn’t imagine why Sam would sound so happy. Sam turned to face him, looping an arm around his waist.

“It’s gonna be okay Dean. We’re gonna get through this.”

Dean’s heavy silence was the only reply he got. He moved to get up and felt Dean turn his head on his pillow.

“Where you going?”

“Oh, gotta clean myself up. Don’t wanna sleep sticky with come you know?”

He heard Dean’s gasp as he padded silently away and it made him smile even more. Yes, he wanted Dean to know just what he did to him. Just because Sam’d agreed to his terms didn’t mean he was going to make it easy for Dean.

∞

“Sam, could you get a move on please?” Dean called from the front door. He was starving and they were supposed to be going for breakfast. But apparently, getting a baby ready to leave the house was a major undertaking.

His brother eventually appeared with an elaborately tied baby sling around his shoulders. Dean couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“What is that?”

“It’s called a sling, Dean.”

“No kidding.”

“We don’t have a car seat so I had to fashion one okay. So shut up.”

Dean was silent; surprised to find that he felt shame at not thinking about the baby’s safety. No matter what kind of monster it was, at the moment it was still mostly a helpless baby relying on them to look after it.

“We can stop by the baby store. Pick up a car seat,” he said.

Sam looked at him, surprise in his eyes, “We can afford that?” he asked.

Dean pursed his lips. They did have some cash…Bobby had left everything he owned to them including the thirty thousand dollars he got in insurance money when his house had burned down. Dean hadn’t touched a single cent of it, but maybe it was time that he did. Not for him or Sam, but for the baby’s safety. Even though Sam didn’t know it, they were on the run. From Leviathans. If they needed to move in a hurry, it would be good to have a car seat to strap the baby in.

“We have a little cash.”

He just hoped the Leviathan did not know about Bobby’s account. The last time they’d been caught it was because of a credit card transaction on one of their aliases. But this wasn’t an alias; it was a bank card, in Bobby’s name. Hopefully they did not have that information.

“Okay cool. We should definitely get a car seat then…if you’re sure?”

Dean smiled at the concern in Sam’s eyes. Before he could stop himself he reached out and pinched Sam’s cheek, “You’re such a good little wife,” he cooed.

Sam shook his hand off irritably, but the blush on his cheeks spoiled the image of annoyance he was going for.

“But yeah, I’m sure,” Dean finished in a more businesslike tone of voice.

“Okay, let’s go then.”

Sam led the way to the car and Dean followed behind.

∞

The bank card worked fine and they fitted the car seat in the back before placing Jack carefully in it. Sam stood back, regarding him with a fond smile; one which he turned on Dean a moment later.

“Thank you for this Dean. Did we ever talk about adopting a child of our own or is the marriage too new?”

Dean stared at him with an open mouth and wide eyes, “Ah, no. We did not talk about having kids. Our lifestyle doesn’t really allow that.”

“You haven’t really told me anything about us. What do we do? What do _I_ do?”

Dean sighed, “After breakfast okay? I don’t do well without coffee in my system.”

“Yeah sure, breakfast. I saw an IHop when we were driving.”

“Okay. Let’s go.”

∞

The waitress was flirting with Dean and Sam wanted to stab her with a knife. He also wanted to stab Dean with a fork for not shutting her down.

“What’s good for breakfast?”

“Pig in a poke?” the waitress cocking her hip toward Dean like she was begging him to look at it. Dean’s eyes traveled obligingly down her body.

“Yeah, I’ll have that...he’ll have an egg white omelet and a short stack.”

“Alrighty then. Coming right up,” she said with a wide smile and a wink.

Dean had the audacity to wink back.

“Right, in front, of my salad,” Sam growled as soon as she’d gone.

“What?”

Sam inclined his head to the side, giving Dean the full benefit of his bitch face, “You do that often? Flirt with other people in front of me?”

“Flirt? You call that flirting? That was just ordering breakfast.”

Dean sounded genuinely surprised at the accusation.

_Was it possible he didn’t know what he was doing?_ Sam wondered.

“Well do it with a little less friendliness, please.”

Dean laughed and Sam’s glare increased in intensity.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing you possessive bastard. It’s good to know that memory or not, the bitchfaces and possessiveness remain.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed to slits, “Is that so? So basically you _do_ flirt with everyone. Good to know. Why am I with you again?”

“Hey! You casting aspersions on my character?”

“You don’t look like the kind of person who uses ‘cast aspersions’ in a sentence.”

“Yeah, but _you_ are.”

Sam tilted his head, dimple winking in and out as he tried not to smile, “You trying to relate to me Dean?”

“I’m trying to get you to shut up is what I’m doing.”

Sam leaned across the table and covered Dean’s joined hands with his. If the waitress just happened to be bringing coffee at that moment, it was purely coincidence.

Dean sighed as if he was done with Sam’s shenanigans but he didn’t move his hands so Sam took it as a win. The waitress was a lot more businesslike this time around depositing the coffee and disappearing with a jaundiced look at their linked hands. Dean smirked, looking at Sam with amusement shining in his eyes. Sam shrugged, acknowledging his games and if Jack hadn’t squawked with annoyance, who knows what might have happened.

Sam turned to the baby to see what the problem was.

“You hungry? What’s wrong baby?” Sam asked.

Jack squawked again and Sam dug into the diaper bag he’d snagged from the lost and found at the homeless shelter he’d stayed in, looking for the bottle.

The baby squawked again. He flapped his hands, eyes on the door.

Dean watched him with narrowed eyes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the baby was trying to say something.

Sam tried to thrust the bottle in Jack’s mouth but he spat it out, squawking loudly again and flapping his hands, eyes still on the door.

Dean turned around and froze.

Standing at the door were two men, staring right at their table. There was nothing really out of the ordinary about them…apart from the fact that they were body doubles for Sam and Dean.

Luckily no one else seemed to have noticed their clones.

Except for Jack of course.

Dean looked around him for weapons of any kind. He had a gun in his waistband, as always. But…Sam had no clue what was going on and they had a baby. Besides, shooting at Leviathan was as about as effective as stabbing a vampire in the heart with a wooden stake. The place was full of civilians though and going by past interactions, these monsters didn’t like to draw attention.

“Uh excuse me, waitress?” Dean called.

Sam looked up, glaring at him, “Seriously? You aren’t tired of flirting yet?”

Dean sighed and then changed that to a smile when the waitress came up. ‘Amber Rose’ read her name tag.

“Hey Amber, I wonder if you have any cleaning products I could borrow? Anything with borax in it?”

Amber Rose was looking at him like he’d lost his mind and Dean couldn’t even blame her.

“Please. It’s urgent.”

The waitress wasn’t the only one looking at him like he was crazy. Samsat frozen, baby bottle held in his hand as he stared at Dean with wide eyes.

“Ak,” Jack said and Dean shifted his gaze to the baby, who was looking straight back at him like he knew what Dean was thinking.

“Umm, yeah we have cleaning supplies, but they’re only for staff,” Amber said.

Dean reached into his pocket and put a twenty on the table, “Please. It’s urgent,” he said again.

Sam looked down at the twenty incredulously then followed it’s progress as the waitress snatched it up and thrust it into her bra.

“Okay then. Cleaning supplies coming up,” Amber said with a roll of her eyes. She whirled on her feet and headed toward the back of the restaurant. Sam continued to stare at Dean waiting for an explanation. Dean continued to avoid his eyes, locking stares with the baby instead.

“You gonna help me with this?” he asked Jack.

“Owk,” Jack said.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Dean said.

“ _Dean_?!?” Sam sounded like he was regretting all his life choices…the ones that he could remember.

Dean closed his eyes, took a deep breath and then opened them. He fixed his gaze on Sam, his own filled with regret.

“Sam, I’m sorry to do this to you but I’m going to need you to move fast.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose in alarm.

“What’s going on?”

Dean leaned forward so he could whisper, “Look toward the door would you?”

Sam was frowning, face full of concern but he did what Dean asked and looked…The way his eyes bugged out of his head when he finally saw…would have had Dean dying of laughter if their lives weren’t in mortal danger.

Amber appeared, holding a bottle of cleaning fluid.

“Here you go,” she said still looking skeptical about his mental health.

“Thank you very much,” Dean said taking the bottle. He turned to see that their clones had their eyes on the bottle too. They looked pissed but not scared.

“D-D-Dean…” Sam’s voice was shaking with fear.

“You’re not losing your mind. There really are clones of you and me standing at the door staring at us. They’re monsters. Shapeshifters. And they’re here to kill us. So I’m going to need you to move fast when I say _. Okay_?”

“D-D-D…” Sam was shaking; he’d dropped the baby’s bottle while Jack kicked his legs and looked entertained.

“Sam!” Dean said sharply, “You hearing me?”

Sam’s eyes snapped to his, wide open and afraid. Dean leaned forward holding his gaze and put his hand on top of Sam’s, “I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you. Okay?”

Sam nodded jerkily but at least his hands were steadier.


	8. Clarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean led the way out, brandishing the bottle of cleaning fluids. Sam followed closely behind, clutching the baby to his chest protectively.

Dean led the way out, brandishing the bottle of cleaning fluids. Sam followed closely behind, clutching the baby to his chest protectively. Dean could feel Sam’s fear radiating off him in noxious waves. He knew that if he turned around, he would find Sam shaking. He took a deep breath, knowing he was the only thing standing between his brother, a baby and certain death.  
“Move,” he growled as he came up to their clones.  
“Not happening.” Not-Dean said with a shake of his head.  
Dean lifted his bottle of fluid threateningly.  
“Move!” he said again.  
“You’re a hard man to find Dean Winchester…most of the time. Then you go and use Bobby Singer’s bank card. Rookie move.”  
Well…that explains how they found them.  
“Yeah well…”  
Not-Sam leaned to the side, “Hey Sam, what you got there? Is that…” Not-Sam squinted incredulously, “a baby?”  
“Awk,” Jack said putting his fingers in his mouth.  
“Wibble dibble,” was what Dean thought Sam said but he hoped he was wrong.  
Not-Sam continued to gape stupidly at the baby while Not-Dean laughed in amusement.  
“Oh God, how have you guys managed to survive so long? You give incompetent a bad name.” Not-Dean said.  
Dean took a breath and threw the borax, hitting Not-Dean straight in the face. He howled, covering his face as his skin began to melt off. Not-Sam was already backing away, looking wary. Jack lifted his fist, warbling in baby language. Suddenly Not-Sam smoked out of existence.  
Dean was too busy hustling Sam past Not-Dean to really pay attention, but he made a mental note to think about that later. He pushed Sam toward the passenger side before skidding over to the driver’s side and getting in. He turned, seeing that Sam was busy strapping the baby into his car seat from outside the car.  
“Sam! Get in!” he growled in a voice that brooked no opposition and Sam was scrambling over the baby’s car seat even as Dean was squealing out of the parking lot. The back door slammed shut as Dean swerved and Sam struggled to squeeze past the car seat to plant his ass next to the baby. There was no time to waste. It was time to leave town.  
They drove in silence for maybe half an hour before Sam drew an audible breath and asked, “What. Was that?”  
“They’re called Leviathans,” Dean said.  
“Leviathans?” Sam asked his voice very high. Dean wanted to laugh again but he didn’t want to appear to make light of Sam’s fear. It was funny though, he sounded like Minnie Mouse in full housewife mode.  
“Yeah.”  
“And…they’re after us?”  
“Yeah. We kind of…hunt them?”  
“Hunt…?” Sam’s mouth stayed open as he cast about him seemingly for an answer that made sense, “Us?”  
“Yeah. You and me.” Dean sounded as apologetic as he felt.  
Sam was staring into the distance looking devastated.  
“That’s why we…that’s why…”  
“That’s why…what Sam?”  
“I just…it was strange to me how we live but if this is what we do, then no wonder. Do people know about monsters? Why don’t I remember this?”  
“By ‘people’ do you mean like, everyone?”  
“Yeah. Like people.”  
“No. People don’t know. It’s not a well known fact. Hunters know. We’re hunters.”  
“Oh God. I can’t be a hunter!” Sam clutched the back of Dean’s seat looking devastated.  
“Sam? Calm down. What you are right now is recovering. That’s all you have to do. Nobody’s gonna make you do anything you don’t want to.” Dean said in his most reassuring voice.  
Sam continued to clutch at the back of Dean’s seat, his mouth open.  
“Okay?” Dean prompted, watching him in the rear view.  
“Y-yeah, okay. Nobody’s gonna make me do anything.” He didn’t meet Dean’s eyes.  
“Okay. Good. You’re okay Sam okay? You’re okay.”  
“But…they’re chasing us right?”  
“No. I think I managed to outrun them. As long as we stay under the radar, they won’t find us.”  
“Is this why you…” Sam opened and closed his mouth as if the words had disappeared.  
Jack made a sound of distress and Sam turned immediately to attend to him, much to Dean’s relief. He caught Jack’s eye in the mirror and winked.  
‘Thanks kid.’  
∞  
They were out in the middle of nowhere, nothing but trees and sky in every direction Sam looked. He busied himself with the baby, making sure he was warm and full. That his diaper was dry. Jack chose now to behave like a perfect angel though. He didn’t fuss, he didn’t cry. He sat quietly in his car seat, kicking his legs contentedly and sucking on his fist; letting out an occasional chuckle at whatever his little baby eyes could see that the rest of them couldn’t. Dean had gone off somewhere.  
Not far.  
Sam could hear him crashing about in the scrub.  
He’d said something about taking a leak and walking the perimeter.  
Sam looked around for something else to do that would take his mind off….things. He had so much already on his mind; Dean, mostly Dean and their relationship but also the black hole that was left where his memories should be. They might be stupid and mundane but to him, they were his entire life.   
And now…  
Now his entire life was so much more complicated than he could ever have imagined. And he didn’t want to deal with it.  
Jack gurgled, and Sam turned back to him with a smile.  
“Hey kid. You hungry?”  
Just saying it made Sam realize he was hungry. They hadn’t even managed to have breakfast before those…things appeared.  
“Dean!” he called and instantly regretted it. Was he supposed to call out loud in this place? Was he giving their position away? He had no clue how this all worked.  
Dean appeared on the edge of the trees, eyebrow raised.  
“I’m hungry,” Sam said unable to disguise the petulance in his voice. Dean just smiled.  
“Oh yeah? So’m I.”  
“Can we get some food?”  
Dean shrugged and then held up something in his hand. Sam’s eyes widened. It was a rabbit.  
A dead rabbit.  
“Fancy some barbecue Bugs Bunny?”  
Sam made a face.  
“Was that a yes? I think that was a yes. Guess what else I found?”  
He held up his other hand which held…carrots. Sam couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing.  
“Really Dean?”  
Dean grinned at him, wide and pleased with himself, “Really Sam.”  
He was melting. Sam was literally melting with love for this big, goofy, good looking fool.  
“You went hunting for me?” He said, hand on his heart, going for joking but not quite sure he managed to hide how moved he was.  
“I went hunting for us. I’m hungry too.”  
“Well okay then. I think I remember how to start a fire if you can watch the kid while you skin the rabbit,” Sam said and immediately turned away to start gathering sticks.  
Dean walked closer to the car, “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you slipped the job of skinning the rabbit to me. You’re not half as smooth as you think, Sammy boy.”  
Sam just smiled kind of liking the nickname even as he hated it. He busied himself with the sticks and then building a nice fire as he listened to Dean skin the rabbit, all the while cursing softly to himself. Jack provided background music with his giggles and gurgles. It was very…nice.  
He turned to find that Dean had cut the rabbit meat into pieces and was skewering them on a stick.  
“Looks good,” he said, watching Dean more than the meat.  
“Yep. Can’t wait for it to be ready. I’m starving.”  
“Me too.” Sam said but he was looking at Dean. Dean noticed his tone in his voice and looked up to meet Sam’s eyes. Sam let everything he was feeling show, reaching out to put his hand on Dean’s thigh.  
“Dean,” he whispered.  
“Sam,” Dean said, his tone going for quelling but quivering too much to achieve it.  
Sam got up on his knees, putting both hands on Dean’s thighs, leaning forward, eyes on Dean’s mouth.  
“Sam…” Dean tried again, the quiver getting worse.  
“You want to. I know you do. I do too. I know who you are now Dean. I’m in love with you. This isn’t about getting off anymore.” His head kept getting closer to Dean’s while Dean stared at him like a deer in headlights.  
“Sam,” Dean’s voice cracked on the name. He opened his mouth to say something else but Sam got there first. His lips covered Dean’s, tongue tasting along his chapped bottom lip before questing to enter his mouth and consume his soul. Dean let him because he couldn’t not.  
This was.  
This was...  
This was…  
Dean didn’t know what this was, but he knew he was drowning in it. And he didn’t know how to make it stop.  
‘Dad.’  
An image of John Winchester flashed across Dean’s mind, the John who had appeared in the graveyard, helping his son kill the thing that had destroyed their family. This John watched them kiss, tears in his eyes.  
That should have stopped Dean in his tracks.  
It really should have.  
But it didn’t.  
Dean didn’t know what to make of that.  
Of any of this.  
“God,” Sam whispered against his mouth, lip quivering with reaction, his eyes closed, face blissful, “That was…god.”  
Yeah. That was one way of putting it.  
“Dean,” Sam said all breathy and lovesick, “I know things are crazy right now-”  
“Understatement.”  
“But I don’t think that we should keep on putting ‘us’ off to deal with it. We’re good for each other. We need to work on building our relationship up again too. I might never get my memories back. This might be all that we have. I don’t want to wait anymore, Dean. Please. Take me.”  
Dean closed his eyes, his whole body wanting to reach out to Sam, his whole mind screaming for him to get away.  
“Sam, we can’t.” he said.  
“Why not? Why can’t we Dean?”  
“I need you to know who I am Sam. I need you to.” Dean said without opening his eyes. He felt Sam’s warm palm on his cheek.  
“I do know who you are Dean. You’re the man I love.”  
Dean scrunched his eyes shut tighter.  
“I love you too Sam,” he said with his shaking voice.  
Sam lurched forward, lips tight against Dean’s, arms like bands around his shoulders.  
Jack gurgled happily in the car.  
∞  
Dean pulled away, reaching for his improvised kebab and stood up.  
“Come on; let’s get some food in you.”  
Sam nodded, letting Dean pull him to his feet. He took the skewers from Dean and walked toward the fire.  
“I think I can do this. Have I done this before?” he asked arranging the skewers on a makeshift grill.  
“Um, no. I definitely do all the cooking in this household.”  
Sam shook his head, “Well that’s gonna change okay? I’m gonna help you out.”  
Dean just barely stopped himself from snorting, “Thanks,” he said.  
Sam turned to look at him, “You don’t believe me,” it was a statement, not a question.  
“Oh, I believe you Sam. The road to hell and all that…” Dean smirked.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam said leaning back on his haunches.  
“Well, Sam,” Dean said taking a step toward him, “I love you, but you can’t cook for shit.”  
Sam stared at him, mouth open, “Not even barbecue?”  
“We aren’t really the summer days by the swimming pool and barbecue types Sam.”  
“Yeah, I mean no, I got that.”  
“Did you?”  
“Yeah Dean, I did!” Sam stood up, glaring balefully at him.  
“Well good, because we gotta get back to finding a way to kill Leviathans. That’s what we need to focus on.”


	9. Jack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean waited until they’d finished their impromptu meal and Sam had fallen asleep in the front seat. He climbed into the back seat next to Jack’s car seat, and looked at the baby. This was the first time they’d been alone together, so to speak, and Dean took the opportunity to really study the kid.

Dean waited until they’d finished their impromptu meal and Sam had fallen asleep in the front seat. He climbed into the back seat next to Jack’s car seat, and looked at the baby. This was the first time they’d been alone together, so to speak, and Dean took the opportunity to really study the kid.

He looked like any other baby Dean had ever seen. Not that he’d been close to any for any significant period of time….not counting Sam. His eyes darted toward his brother, slumbering peacefully in the front seat, secure in his feelings and his world view. He looked back at Jack, eyebrows raised.

Jack gurgled with laughter, blue eyes bright and aware in a way Dean was sure babies were usually not.

“So. Jack. Did you vaporize a Leviathan back there or am I reading that wrong?” he reached into the car seat to pick the kid up. Jack pin-wheeled his legs in excitement, toothless gums on display.

“Is that a yes? You can kill leviathan?” he asked in a baby voice, blowing bubbles on Jack’s big round soft stomach.

Jack screamed with laughter, making Sam jerk in the front seat, but he didn’t awaken, simply sank back against the headrest and sighed deeper into sleep. Jack reached out, covering Dean’s nose with his little chubby hand.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” he murmured to the baby, “How about we do another lil’ test run?”

“Ahh,” Jack said.

“No? that sounded like no.”

“Ak.”

“Maybe?”

Jack slapped Dean’s mouth with his tiny fist. Dean giggled.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” he asked.

A quiet laugh from the front seat had him lifting his eyes to see Sam peering at them, amused affection shining from his eyes.

“You’re cute,” he said.

Dean snorted, “You just now noticing that?”

Sam straightened up from his slump, still smiling at them, “It’s the first time I’ve seen you play with Jack. You’re gonna make a good father,” Sam said looking at him with shining eyes.

“The bare minimum gallery strikes again,” Dean said.

Sam narrowed his eyes at him, forehead furrowing, “Why do you put yourself down so much?”

Dean sighed, barely restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

“My mother never hugged me enough,” he snarked.

Sam froze, staring at him in surprise, “…oh,” he said in a small voice.

Dean sighed louder, “I’m joking man. It’s a joke. Relax.”

Aaaaand, now Sam was frowning again.

“Hey listen, how about we look for somewhere to bed down for the night, huh? Can’t exactly sleep in the car with the baby.”

“Definitely not. Are we going to find another abandoned building?” Sam asked, completely sidetracked, which had been Dean’s objective in the first place.

“I don’t know. We’ll have to see what we can find.”

The thought occurred to Dean that they weren’t far from Whitefish. They could probably make it to Rufus’ old cabin by midnight, maybe lay low for a while. Just because the Leviathan had traced them to a Gas n’ Sip nearby didn’t mean they knew about the cabin. Good thing he’d withdrawn some of Bobby’s money to live on for a minute. Long enough to figure out their next move. An amnesiac brother and a supernatural baby kind of put a kink on the hunting thing. He should probably try and resolve one of those things soon. Much as it was likely to be awkward as fuck.

∞

“Quaint.”

Dean put their bags down on the floor and went out for the baby seat. He left Sam standing just inside the door, holding the baby. For a guy whose only memory was living on the street he sure had delicate sensibilities.

Sam’s bitchiness transcended everything apparently.

It was good to know.

He’d labored under the delusion for many years that he was responsible for Sam’s perpetually pessimistic mien. Turns out, that was just his basic personality.

He snorted as he struggled with the baby seat, most of his attention dedicated to listening for any unusual sounds in the trees around them. Or rather, lack of sound. While the birds were singing, the insects rustling about in the grass – he paused for a moment, marveling at his ability to think so poetically – they were fine.

He finally wrestled the car seat out of the back and carried it hunched over to the cabin. Sam had made himself at home, building a nest of sorts on the couch to place the baby in while he poked about uncovering the gun collection they’d stashed the last time they’d been there and one of Bobby’s rare books stacked on the table.

Dean swallowed the lump painfully lodged in his throat and turned away, propping the car seat against the couch before placing little Jack in it, still in his nest. His legs kicked reflexively but he didn’t open his eyes. Dean watched him sleep, noting his fisted hands and the tenseness in his legs. Should a baby sleep so ready to fight already? Was it his…other nature that made him so vigilant even surrounded by adults who were – relatively – safe? Maybe Jack didn’t really trust them either. And who could blame it? This life was hard for an adult. He couldn’t even imagine how much worse it might seem to a Jack-sized person. He reached down, smoothy the downy hair on his head.

“It’s alright,” he murmured soothingly, “I’ll protect you. I promise.”

The baby made no demur, but his fist loosened slightly as he slumped deeper into his seat.

“We need to get him a cot or something.”

Dean jumped, looking up to see Sam standing nearby.

“Would you stop doing that?” he said irritably, straightening to his full height.

“Doing what?” Sam asked, mouth twitching because he did know _full well_ exactly what he was doing.

“Startling me,” Dean said grumpily as he went to the bags to unpack the food they had. Apart from baby formula, he had a stash of power bars and left over rabbit. He glanced at Sam, frowning at his still thin frame as he stood in the same spot, watching Dean.

“Should we order in?” he asked.

Sam shrugged, “I thought we were hiding?”

“Well…yeah but you need to eat.”

Sam smiled indulgently and then came right up to Dean, slipping his long arms around Dean’s shoulders.

“You take such good care of me,” he whispered before leaning in to press his lips against Dean’s, tongue asking for permission. Dean tried not to give it, but that didn’t stop Sam’s tongue from running experimentally along Dean’s lips, his teeth from biting Dean’s lower lip, and then sucking gently causing Dean to _inadvertently_ open his mouth and let Sam in. Let him plunder and suck, taste and lick. Dean was really quite impressed with what a good kisser Sam was. Who knew the geek squad had such skills? Hell if Dean had had this information earlier he’d have definitely spent _a lot_ more time in the library and less at cheerleader tryouts.

But then he remembered that hello, this was Sam, _his brother_ , that he was kissing so enthusiastically – and that _somebody_ had to be the sane one around here.

Reluctantly, he pushed his brother away and shuddered as Sam whined in protest. For some reason, that sound went straight to his dick. He really needed to get laid.

“Sam…”

“What? What? What is it now?” Sam clung to him as he pouted sulkily.

“We gotta sort out this food situation,” Dean said, hiding behind practical details. He knew that pretty soon he was going to run out of excuses and then shit was really going to hit the fan.

“Fine. But after that we are totally making out.” Sam said.

“Jack-” Dean tried.

“Is fine. And he will continue to be fine for the fifteen minutes I’m gonna have my tongue down your throat. Maybe my hands in your pants. I haven’t decided. I really feel like it’s time I had my hand on your dick, don’t you?”

Dean almost choked on thin air. His dick though...his dick was liking this plan very much.

Sam looked down and smirked.

“Yeah, I think that we agree with my plan,” he said, voice all smoky and seductive. Dean had had no idea that Sam had that voice in him. Then he almost fell when Sam’s hand cupped his balls, patted gently at his dick and then the little shit was turning away, as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. Dean had to stand in the same spot for five minutes, just breathing, trying to get his legs to work.

Sam was humming as he cobbled together a meal from Dean’s scraps and a few tins of canned food they’d found. Dean remembered that the last time they’d been here, he’d sent Sam for food and then Sam had disappeared, going after Amy Pond, and they’d just never returned. So Sam had actually bought the cans they were eating from.

“What are you smiling about?” Dean looked up in surprise at Sam’s words.

“What?”

“You’re smiling. What’s that about?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize. I was just ah…well.”

“What?” Sam asked leaning forward, the beginnings of his own smile on his lips as if he was just waiting to laugh along to whatever Dean said.

“I was actually thinking that it was you, who bought the food we’re eating.”

Sam’s brow furrowed.

“What?”

“You don’t remember, but you’re the one who bought these groceries the last time we were here.”

“Hmm,” Sam said looking down at the food, “That would explain the existence of canned vegetables.”

Dean laughed, “Yeah. That explains the vegetables.”

They watched each other fondly, forks suspended mid-scoop. Sam leaned in, eyes on Dean’s mouth and Dean watched him come closer, not moving away, not moving closer.

“You’re going to have to make a decision soon,” Sam murmured, so close Dean could feel the breath of every word brush warmly against his lips.

“Decision?” he asked, about an eighth of his brain even registering words.

“You’re stalling. And it’s not because you think I don’t love you. Something’s holding you back. You’re gonna have to decide soon if we’re in this together or not.”

Dean startled, surprised that he was surprised that Sam had sussed him out…well, _this_ Sam anyway, “We’re in this together Sam.”

“Are we?” Sam’s eyebrows rose.

“Absolutely.”

“So then, why do you keep pushing me away?”

Dean leaned back in his seat, putting his fork down, “I’m not…I just…” his eyes cast around like the words were hiding from him.

“What Dean? Just tell me?”

“I…look, it’s been hard okay? I’ve been so used to it being ‘us’ but now it’s me, and a baby, and a you who can’t remember anything. I have to find ways to protect you. There are some bad…things…after us. I can’t afford the distraction.”

“Then teach me. Show me. Let me help you.” Sam promptly said.

“Sa-” Dean began to say.

“Dean, I mean it. Please. Let me help,” Sam reached out, covering Dean’s hand with his own. Dean jumped, almost snatched his hand away before his body realized there was no threat. He relaxed, stretching his lips in a smile.

“Okay then. I’ll teach you. But for tonight, let’s get some sleep. Is Jack gonna be okay for the rest of the night?”

 Sam shrugged, “How should I know?”

Dean smiled at that, “That’s usually _my_ line.”

“Yeah, well…I guess I must have learned it from _somewhere_.” One of Sam’s shoulders rose and fell as he poked absently at his peas.

Dean sighed, “Fine. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you some things.”

Sam’s face lit up with joy, “Thank you,” he said, hand covering Dean’s again. “But for tonight…”


	10. Sam Takes the Initiative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam woke up before the sun was up. He sat up, looking at the lump on the other side of the bed, folded almost in half. Dean took up a lot of space when he slept. Sam didn’t mind. He liked that he could feel Dean all the way from his toes to his shoulders, breathing in and out, peaceful, relaxed, warm skin heating Sam up like nothing else he’d could ever remember. Somehow he was sure that even if he got his memory back, there would be nothing in his life to compare to the warm feeling Dean lit up in his middle simply by existing.

Sam woke up before the sun was up. He sat up, looking at the lump on the other side of the bed, folded almost in half. Dean took up a lot of space when he slept. Sam didn’t mind. He liked that he could feel Dean all the way from his toes to his shoulders, breathing in and out, peaceful, relaxed, warm skin heating Sam up like nothing else he’d could ever remember. Somehow he was sure that even if he got his memory back, there would be nothing in his life to compare to the warm feeling Dean lit up in his middle simply by existing.  
He sighed, flinching when his bare feet touched the cold floor. . He’d woken up with an idea on how to get them food. He knew that was one thing Dean was worried about and he thought he might be able to help ease his mind in at least this one way. He pulled on his jacket over the sweats and t-shirt he was wearing and jammed his feet into sneakers.  
He peered into the cupboard where they’d made a makeshift cot for Jack. The baby was still out like a light, hands on each side of his head, legs spread out like he wanted to occupy the entire confined space. Sam thought about picking him up, putting him in the bed with Dean but…no, he might roll over and fall off. Or Dean might roll over and suffocate him. Better to leave them where they were.  
He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote Dean a note and then slipped out of the house. He might not remember much, but he was on the street long enough to know where to look for food when you didn’t have much. He bypassed the car, walking into the woods, alert for any sounds that might indicate a human predator was near. There was nothing but birds chirping and small creatures skittering about in the foliage.  
The centre of town was a lot closer than he thought. It only took him fifteen minutes to get there. He was enjoying how easy and free his body was. He could tell that he was very fit, probably worked out some in his former life. He felt his bicep, hard as steel and defined as all get out. Considering what they did for a living, it wasn’t surprising.  
His mind wandered back to the evening before as he walked toward town, thinking about putting the baby to bed together, and then cuddling on the queen size bed with Dean. He had waited for Dean to make the first move but he’d just lounged there, watching Sam like he was scared. Sam had swung his leg over Dean’s hip and leaned in, wanting to taste Dean’s soft mouth again, that peculiar taste of chewing gum, whisky and leather that seemed to cling to him like white on rice.  
Sam wanted to lick the taste off Dean’s tongue. He did his level best, but even after all the licking and sucking, his scent was still there, sinking into his skin like tattoo ink.  
Speaking of skin, he couldn’t quite articulate what touching Dean’s skin did to him. It wasn’t just warmth, it was floaty, it was wonderful. But it was also calm and peaceful and just…right. It was…normal. It was every day. It was all is right with the world. He couldn’t explain it, which he figured was something the old Sam might not like. He had a feeling he liked things explained, all neat and clean. This thing with Dean though…there was no explanation.  
He sighed happily, thinking of his hand around Dean’s dick, how hard he’d been... It had literally been like touching silk-encased steel. Sam’s hand curled into a fist just thinking about it; the smooth warm feel of skin on skin as he squeezed and rubbed, mouth pressed to mouth so tight that he felt Dean’s moan in his throat.  
Heaven.  
Sam gave a full body shudder just thinking about it as he stepped onto pavement. He was out of the woods and on the main street. He looked around carefully, not knowing who was safe and who wasn’t. But he was used to keeping to the shadows, going from place to place unseen. He’d been on the street long enough to learn that. It was barely dawn and the streets were empty. If there was a soup kitchen in town though, it would be bustling with activity. They’d be making breakfast, maybe already serving it. The homeless woke up early too.  
He didn’t figure there were that many homeless in this town, it was tiny looking. So maybe not a soup kitchen…but a church? Sam walked down the main street, and it wasn’t long until he saw the tall spires he was looking for. He went around the back, looking for the priest’s house.  
“Hello.”  
He turned, fists coming up, ready for anything, only to see a middle aged man in tattered jeans and work boots, holding a rake.  
“Can I help you?”  
“Uuuh, I’m looking for the priest?”  
“You’ve found him.”  
Sam’s eyebrows rose, “Oh, uh, hi. I was wondering if you have a soup kitchen, or maybe if I could trouble you to get me some food in exchange for-”  
The priest held up his hand, “Say no more. Come with me.”  
He began to walk toward a small cottage adjoining the church and Sam followed. The priest opened the door and gestured for Sam to enter. The thought crossed Sam’s mind that Dean would not be pleased at him trusting this stranger and entering his home but Sam felt like the priest was okay.  
“Sit down,” he said.  
“Thank you,” Sam replied taking a seat at the kitchen table. The priest fumbled with cutlery and crockery and the smell of coffee began to fill the room. He came to the table with two cups, placing one in front of Sam.  
“So, tell me,” he said.  
Sam shrugged, “there’s not much to tell. My…family and I need food.”  
The priest nodded, “I see. And where is your family?”  
“Not here.”  
“How many are you?”  
Sam hesitated, fearing small town small mindedness, “My…husband and our baby.”  
The priest nodded, “I see. Well…” he stood up, moving to a cupboard, opened it and peered inside, “We always keep baby formula for the poorer families from across the train tracks. Sometimes, someone leaves a baby on our doorstep. I can help you with a few tins. I also have plenty of coffee, some canned goods, bread…”  
“That’s…very generous of you,” Sam said slowly.  
The priest waved away his thanks, “It’s my job.”  
“I have a little money. I can pay you.”  
“Save your money. These things are contributed by the congregation for those in need. You’re in need, right?” he said, handing Sam a bag in which he’d been stuffing things.  
Sam hesitated, “I…we’re not that poor. We just…”  
“Don’t feel bad,” he interrupted, “The baby needs food right? It’s not like you can breastfeed,” he looked down at Sam’s chest significantly and then back up at his eyes.  
Sam shook his head slowly, “O-okay,” he said reaching for the bag.  
“I’m Father O’Brien by the way.”  
“Good to meet you, Father,” Sam said and nodded his head, “I should get back.”  
The priest nodded and Sam took his leave. That had been way easier than he had thought it would be.  
∞  
Dean was pacing on the porch when Sam got back. He jumped the steps in one go and came hurrying toward Sam as soon as he caught sight of him.  
“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” he demanded, hand fisting Sam’s t-shirt.  
“Calm down Dean. Where’s the baby?”  
“Don’t tell me to calm down. Where were you?”  
Sam held up the bag, “Getting breakfast,” he said.  
“What? You went into a store? Did you check if they had CCTV?”  
“I didn’t go into a drug store, Dean, or any store. I went to the church.”  
Dean’s eyebrow lifted up, “The church?”  
“Yeah. I figured we could eat from a soup kitchen pretty safely.”  
Dean stared at him, mouth open, “That was good thinking,” he said at last.  
Sam grinned. “Thanks,” he said, “Now will you let go my shirt?”  
Dean simply stared at him, vivid green eyes wide and scared. Then he surged upwards, kissing Sam like it was the last thing he was ever going to do. Sam froze but only for a moment, then he was kissing Dean back as he tried to stop the laugh that wanted to burst out of him. He could feel a bubble of happiness burst in his chest and spread its heady floatiness throughout his body.  
Dean was kissing him!  
Dean was kissing him like if he stopped he would die.  
Sam was pretty sure this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.  
∞  
The baby gave a loud cry and that brought Dean back to earth with a thud.   
He was kissing Sam.  
He was kissing Sam and he didn’t want to stop.  
He was kissing Sam and he didn’t want to stop and it didn’t feel weird.  
This was officially, the craziest thing, that had ever happened to him.  
Slowly, reluctantly, he pushed his brother away.  
“Sam? Jack.” He said seeing the epic pout that was forming on Sam’s face. His face went from whiny teenager to concerned parent so fast it made Dean’s head spin. Then Sam was surging past him, hurrying into the house to tend to the monster baby they’d adopted. If someone had told Dean this would be his life…he shook his head, following his brother into the cabin.  
Sam was cooing at the baby, making concerned and soothing noises as Jack watched him curiously. He wasn’t crying or fussing, he was just content in Sam’s arms, watching him babble like a mental patient at him. Hell, Jack probably thought they were both crazy.  
He didn’t want to think of the black fog of fear when he’d woken up and found Sam gone…again. He was already tearing about, trying to put on his socks and his jacket at the same time while simultaneously searching for his gun – which he could not believe he forgot to leave under his pillow – when he saw the note.  
Gone out for food. Back soon. xxx love you.  
He’d stared at it for several minutes, unable to comprehend just what…then the full implications fell on him like a ton of bricks and he visualized Sam somewhere, surrounded by Leviathan, probably trying to reason with them, the stupid bastard. Where would he go? Why would he go out on his own? Why the fuck hadn’t he woken Dean up? What was he gonna do if he lost Sam again?  
Those were the questions circling his mind as he paced, as he tried to keep faith that Sam would appear out of the trees at any moment. That this was just a harmless, early morning food run. Uneventful. Safe.  
Try as he might, he could not convince himself.  
So yeah, he might have kissed his brother pretty hard back there. He’d been worried. And this…this world Sam was living in where they were married…it sucked you in and it was just hard keeping his distance, maintaining their brotherly relationship, when only one of them remembered they were brothers. There was no one else but him and Sam here; and a baby. Isolated, alone, with no one to rely on but each other.   
Besides it was just kissing.  
Mostly.  
No permanent damage had been done.  
When Sam remembered, they could go back to being brothers and everything would be fine.  
He ignored the painful twist in his gut at the thought.  
  


	11. Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The explosive sound of the gunshot startled Sam even though he was the one who had pulled the trigger. He jumped back, inadvertently stepping on Dean’s toe.  
> “It’s okay. Relax. You did good. You pulled the trigger. That’s a start.”

The explosive sound of the gunshot startled Sam even though he was the one who had pulled the trigger. He jumped back, inadvertently stepping on Dean’s toe.  
“It’s okay. Relax. You did good. You pulled the trigger. That’s a start.”  
His words were encouraging but Sam could smell the demoralization in his voice. This must be so hard on him. Sam should already know these things. He should be able to watch Dean’s back. But here he was, adding to Dean’s burdens.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“For what?”

“Making this so hard on you.”

Dean laughed, warm air from his parted lips brushing against Sam’s neck and he had to suppress a shudder of reaction.

“You’re not making this hard…” he said and Sam could feel the amusement radiating off him and knew that he was thinking about a dirty joke or double entendre. He reached back with his elbow, nudging Dean in the stomach.

“Shut up,” he said.

Dean laughed outright, sounding surprised but pleased. His hands landed on Sam’s waist, warm in more than one sense of the word and he leaned in closer.

“Do it again,” he said and Sam could hear the smile in his voice. It made him want to say or do something to make Dean laugh again. He was a sucker for making his husband happy. Whatever had happened to cause the rift that had him wandering off in the middle of the night and getting hit by a car, it didn’t matter. He forgave Dean for it. Or maybe Dean needed to forgive him. Either way, it was forgotten.

“I love you.”

The words just burst out of him with no forethought.

“I love you too, Sammy. Now quit the distractions and hit that can!”

Sam pulled the trigger and was startled again when the can flew in the air and landed on the ground.

“Bulls eye!” Dean’s low voice in his ear was doing crazy things to his libido, “That’s my boy,” he continued, right in Sam’s ear and that was _it!_

Sam dropped his gun, spun around in Dean’s arms and pressed his whole needy body to Dean’s, mouth to groin. His hands dug into Dean’s shoulder as he squirmed and groaned, sucking Dean’s essence down into his entire psyche. Wanting to mix them so thoroughly that there was no way to know where one ended and the other began. Dean’s hands were on his ass, squeezing reflexively and Sam was suddenly very tired of waiting.

It was time for them, to fuck.

∞

Sam was waiting for him when he came out of the shower…sprawled across the bed.

Stark naked.

Dean stopped short, gaping gracelessly.

Sam was fondling his genitals, lower lip caught between his teeth, eyes shiny with arousal as they stared back at Dean.

Dean did not know what to do with all of…that.

“What…?” he croaked, voice clicking in his throat, head shaking in incomprehension.

Sam smiled, “I was a good boy today wasn’t I?” he said, his voice coming in at a register Dean had never heard before. Maybe Jess had heard it, those long gone college days; maybe even Madison…but never Dean.

“Urk,” was what came out of his mouth when he tried to speak.

Sam sat up, legs still spread wide and extended one of his hands to Dean, the other still juggling his balls.

“Come to me,” he pleaded.

Dean was frozen.

He couldn’t move, could barely speak, there was no brain activity, he was for all intents and purposes, a zombie.

“Dean,” Sam said in that voice that usually got him moving toward Sam without thought, an instinct so old it transcended paralysis. He was sitting on the bed and Sam was holding his hand before he knew what was happening.

“Touch me,” Sam said and he was already moving Dean’s hand to flick at his nipples, breath already coming hard.

‘Sam, stop,’ is what Dean _meant_ to say.

“Do-aaaaa” was what came out of his mouth as the hand previously fondling Sam’s balls was burrowing into his fly, seeking out his dick with single-minded determination. With great difficulty Dean made his hand move and circle slowly around Sam’s wrist, holding his hand still.

“Dean, Dean, Dean, please, I need it. You need it. Let me,” Sam chanted, warm breath brushing against Dean’s neck as Sam strained toward him, trying to lick him.

Dean made his head move, shake one way and then the other. He couldn’t _think_. He couldn’t understand what all the blood was doing in his dick.

This was _Sam_.

Tall, Sasquatch, nerdy, angsty Sam who looked up to Dean; relied on him to tell Sam what to do, and when. To let Sam do this, unknowing, would be betraying the very foundations of their relationship.

“Sam, no!” he finally managed to say and Sam slumped back in defeat.

“Why don’t you want me?” he asked, his voice broken.

Dean closed his eyes and sighed, whether he did or he didn’t, it seemed he was destined to hurt his brother.

“I want you, okay? The body never lies.”

Sam sat up so fast, “Then why? Why won’t you let us have this?”

“I need you to remember,” Dean said his eyes still closed. Then he stood up, and limped slowly, painfully, away.

 ∞

Sam was walking the baby up and down the living room of the cabin, trying to get him to fall asleep. Jack seemed more interested in talking to him non stop, kicking his legs in excitement and raising his fists in the air as if he was superman about to fly off. Sam was torn between amusement and irritation. That particular combination of emotion seemed entirely familiar to him especially when his eyes fell on Dean who had decided that he was going to chop firewood.  Sam was pretty sure he’d never done such a thing before, but for a first timer he wasn’t doing a half bad job. Sam could watch him through the living room window, his shirt off, skin glistening with sweat, looking like that answer to all of Sam’s wet dreams. He didn’t know why Dean was punishing them like this.

“So Jack, remember how you healed my leg?” he murmured to the baby as he bounced him up and down, eyes still on Dean.

“Well, your daddy over there won’t give it up to me until I get my memory back. Don’t suppose you can help me with that?”

“AAAk!” Jack said pumping his fists up and down.

“Is that a yes?” Sam said smiling at the kid, then on impulse he leaned in and kissed his chubby cheek, just because it was there. There was an amber burst of light before his eyes and his vision went dark. He stumbled backwards, accidentally bumping against the couch and sat down quick before he dropped the kid.

He opened his mouth to scream for Dean but before he could, light began to inch back into his life, the darkness became lighter and lighter until it dissipated like a pile of coal dust blown away by the wind. With the light came a return of memory, from his mother burning on the ceiling above his head as a yellow eyed man bled into his mouth to Lucifer, chasing him down the street, right into the path of a speeding car.

He sat there, holding tightly onto Jack, and tried to regulate his breathing. His head turned and his eyes sought Dean, still shirtless, and cutting wood. Still more of a temptation than all the demon blood in the universe.

_‘I need you to remember.’_

Dean’s words echoed in the room like a siren song, reverberating in his brain as images flashed through his mind; how he threw himself at Dean, insisted they were husbands. Hell, he’d even gotten them a baby.

And of course it had to be a monster baby because Sam was consistent in his bad decisions.

He looked down at Jack, looking up at him with huge eyes and a gummy smile and couldn’t find it in his heart to regret him.

“Hey Jack. I’m Sam. Sam Winchester. And that man out there cutting wood for us is my brother, Dean,” he said quietly, more to himself than the baby.

“Aaaak,” Jack said and bumped him on the nose with his fist.

Sam couldn’t help but smile even as his heart broke for what might have been.

∞

Sam had dinner prepared when Dean came back in, dragging some logs behind him. It was only cheese and tomato toasted sandwiches but he still made them. He also chilled a couple of beers just the way Dean liked them.

Dean took his time in the shower. Enough time for Sam to feed Jack and put him down to rest.

“Now you just stay there, don’t move,” he said to the kid in his makeshift cot. Jack simply looked up at him and smiled. It occurred to Sam that the kid didn’t sleep much. According to his research, the kid should be doing at least fifteen to twenty hours of sleep a day at his age. But no, the kid just watched them, seemingly laughing at all their little stupidities.

Sam reached down and flicked his cheek.

“Wish me luck,” he whispered.

“Uah,” Jack said and Sam found that he was smiling.

He went to the table and set out the food just as Dean emerged from the bedroom, pulling on a t-shirt with an air of accomplishment. There was nothing Dean loved as much as feeling like he’d taken care of his loved ones, and the wood burning merrily in the fireplace was his doing, as was the food they were eating, Jack’s makeshift crib and the fact that Sam was slowly regaining his pre-homeless weight. Sam knew that full well, and he smirked, feeling pleased that Dean was in such a great mood.

It might make things easier.

They ate in relative silence, Sam, lost in contemplation of the things he had to say, and Dean, tired from a long day of physical labor.

“That was delicious, Sammy, thanks,” Dean said as he took his plate to the sink and rinsed it out.

“You’re welcome,” Sam said sitting back and watching his brother. Dean came back with two more beers and handed one to Sam.

“Now you wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

Sam felt a warmth in his chest because of how well Dean knew him. He gestured to Dean’s seat, inviting him to take it.

Dean sat and took a sip of his beer watching Sam.

Sam smiled wistfully, watching Dean watch him. He took the time to mull over Dean; really appreciate his brother.

He reached out and covered Dean’s hand with his own.

“This is going to get awkward, so brace yourself,” he said.

“Uh huh,” Dean said his hand had tensed beneath Sam’s but he didn’t pull away. He was still playing at being Sam’s husband. Sam sighed, and wistfully said goodbye to that fantasy.

“I love you, Dean,” he said tracing patterns on Dean’s hand, “And I want to be everything that you need.”

Dean sighed, withdrawing his hand and looking away.

“Hear me out,” Sam said.

Dean nodded.

“You’ve always been everything I ever needed, even when I took you for granted. You’re my first real memory, my touchstone. The one constant in my life.”

Dean was watching him with wide eyes. He always had been quick on the uptake.

“Even when I went to college, I found a substitute you, tall, blonde, bossy as all get out, she even had the same birthday as you. But when the original showed up, I took off without a second thought. Even knowing what I knew. What does that say about me?”

He shook his head, not waiting for Dean to answer. It wasn’t really a question anyway.

“I never once imagined that I was in love with you. Even with how possessive I can be of you, your body and your relationships. Even with how I never liked anyone who took that attention from me…I never once imagined that _I_ was in love with you.”

Dean looked down at his fingers, fiddling with his beer bottle.

“But now that I’ve seen it, I can’t _unsee_ it. You know what I mean?”

This time he did wait for a reply. Dean just flicked his eyes up at him and then back down to his bottle.

“I want to be what you need Dean. Whatever that is, is enough for me. Just as long as we stay together.”

“Sam-”

“ _Don’t_ tell me I don’t know what I’m saying. I’ve been thinking about this since Jack cured me this afternoon. If you know one thing about me, it’s that I’m good at figuring things out.”

Dean just sighed, shoulders slumping like he felt defeated.

“Whatever you need Dean. If you need us to be just brothers, then that’s what we are. No questions.”


	12. Heartfelt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean leaned his elbows on the table, looking thoughtful, “You’re right,” he said, “Once you see it, it’s hard to unsee.”

Dean leaned his elbows on the table, looking thoughtful, “You’re right,” he said, “Once you see it, it’s hard to unsee.”

Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I think I fell in love with my little brother as soon as our mother placed him on my lap. So tiny and round and helpless. He was fixing to cry when she placed him in my arms but then he opened his eyes and just looked at me as if he was surprised to see me. I said, ‘hey there Sammy,’ and I think he smiled at me. Mama said it was impossible but I know what I saw.”

Sam smiled, “I bet I did smile. You were a goofy looking kid.”

Dean gave him the middle finger.

“And then, when…the fire happened…” Dean swallowed audibly.

“We don’t have t-”

“When the fire happened, and dad kind of checked out…it was just me. Me and this little kid who kept looking at me like I held the secret to living. Who burrowed into my arms like he belonged there. Who acted like he owned me. It was the nearest thing to home I had.”

Dean looked up slowly at Sam, his eyes so green Sam felt like he was drowning in them.

“You’ve never stopped feeling like home.”

Sam could feel the moisture cloud his vision and had to look away.

“Is that love? Is that being in love?” Dean asked sounding thoughtful yet detached. As if this was all academic.

“I don’t know Dean. I just know that I need you.”

Dean nodded.

Sam leaned back, “You ever been with a guy before?”

Dean gave him an emerald look, “Have you?”

Sam shook his head, “Never really thought about it.”

“But you want to…?”

“Oh yeah. Do you?”

“Well, unlike you I do have some sausage experience.”

Sam leaned forward, eyes narrowed, “When?”

Dean shrugged, “After you left for Stanford. Went out looking for a fight. Found a fuck instead.”

_“And_?”

“And…” Dean shrugged, “I mean lips on your cock are lips on your cock, but I wasn’t really into the facial hair and lack of boobs.”

Sam deflated, “Oh. So you…”

“Oh no, I do want _you_. I just think maybe my preference is very person-specific.”

Sam smiled, “Yeah, me too.”

They stayed quiet then, eyes on each other, just…contemplating.

Dean straightened up with a sigh, “You remember…” he said eyes widening, “You remember everything. How did…?”

“Jack,” Sam said drily.

“Oh. Of course. And…Lucifer? Is he back?”

“Strangely no.”

“But you…still remember hell? The cage?”

“Yeah. I think that since Lucifer disappeared with my amnesia, my mind just knows he was a figment of my imagination. And yeah, I know the memories are still there but…I’m not crazy anymore.”

Dean inclined his head in a ‘eh, not so sure about that.’ Sam smiled to see it. To understand what it meant. To know the history behind it.

“You…were worried I’d go crazy again if I got my memories back…it wasn’t just…”

“I wasn’t just trying to keep you the way you were for my entertainment.”

Sam grimaced, “That wasn’t what-”

“No, I know. I just figured you might have wondered why I wasn’t doing anything to help you get your memory back. No hoodoo men, no angels or deals…”

“Thank fuck.” Sam said giving Dean a look™.

“It’s not like I didn’t think about it.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“But you were sleeping, you were okay, you were happy, gaining weight, getting healthy. I just thought I’d hold off, think about it for a while.”

“Let me have my marriage fantasy?” Sam said with a blushing grin.

Dean tilted his head to the side, “What made you so _sure_ about that?”

Sam huffed a laugh, “I don’t know. The nurse at the hospital asked me if I had a boyfriend and it felt …true. And then when I saw you, I thought…‘hot’…”

“Ah ha! I knew you thought I was hot stuff!” Dean exclaimed triumphantly. He lit up at the appearance of Sam’s bitch face.

“Really, Dean?” Sam said with a sigh.

“Sorry,” Dean said putting on his fake serious face, “We were saying…?”

Sam shrugged, “It’s weird. I have all my memories now, but I still feel like him.”

“Him?”

“Him. Homeless guy who thought you were his husband.”

“You were saying how you were so sure about that.”

“Yeah it was my reaction to you. I just…I knew that the feelings between us were strong. Too strong to be anything but real love.”

“Well, yeah, I guess that’s…”

Dean was flushed, avoiding Sam’s eyes, which Sam found pretty endearing.

“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to throw that word around…much.” He grinned.

Dean sighed.

“So, now what?” he asked.

“Well, we still have Leviathan to kill.”

“True.”

“And we should probably find out exactly what Jack is.”

“Goes without saying.”

There was an awkward pause as Sam drew in a breath as if to say something else and Dean watched him with wide eyes.

“D-do, do you want to maybe shelve…everything else for later?” Sam asked.

Dean pursed his lips as he thought.

“Do you?” he asked in turn.

Sam slowly shook his head and that made Dean laugh.

“Look at you, being the horny one for once.”

“Dean,” Sam said his tone all superior and quelling as if Dean was acting the fool. His brother raised his hands in surrender.

Jack made a sound of distress from his makeshift bassinet and Sam was on his feet at once. He went and picked up the baby, bouncing him on his hip as he murmured nonsense things in Jack’s ear.

“Is he hungry? Should I make up a bottle?” Dean asked.

“I don’t think so. He ate just before I put him down.”

“Is he wet?”

Sam felt his diaper, “He’s fine.”

He sat down, holding the baby and Dean held out his hands so Sam could transfer Jack to him.

“Hey there lil’ fella.” Dean murmured.

“Aaaaa,” Jack said bobbing his head.

“You good? Thanks for healing my bro.”

Jack’s mouth opened wide in silent delighted laughter.

“I’ve been wanting to discuss what you did to that Leviathan by the way,” Dean said.

“Dean,” Sam said narrowing his eyes at his brother.

“What? Clearly the kid has some skills.”

“The kid can’t talk.”

“Semantics.”

“Give him here, Dean.”

Dean sighed, passing the baby over.

∞

They lay in bed, facing each other, just…staring – hazel eyes into green. Jack lay asleep in his cot at the foot of the bed where they placed it on a table. He lay sprawled in his drawer turned bed, fisted hands above his head, one leg hanging off the edge of the drawer, blankets discarded. Sam had tired of covering him up but every time he threw off his blankets so now he slept in warm clothes and Sam and Dean hoped for the best. They also turned the heat up in the bedroom, just to make sure he didn’t get cold.

“Can he even get sick?” Dean had asked on the first night.

“That’s not the point _Dean_ ,” Sam had replied shooting him a reproachful glance.

Dean had given a put upon sigh and went to see what he could rustle up for dinner.

Now Jack sighed heavily in his sleep, looking content while Sam and Dean lay tense, one hand under each of their pillows while the other lay straight, parallel to their bodies, watching each other warily.

Suddenly Dean huffed a laugh, making Sam jump, “This is so stupid,” he said, “We’re acting like a couple of virgins.”

Sam sighed, “It’s not too late to back out,” he said reluctantly.

“Oh yeah? And do what? Spend the rest of my life with my left hand?”

Sam opened his mouth, maybe to make an automatic protest or to give some other dumbass suggestion. Luckily he thought better of it and shut his mouth again.

“You said it yourself Sammy, you were jealous of my liaisons when we were nothing more than brothers. Somehow I don’t see you being okay with us going back to how things were.”

“You hadn’t really seen anyone after Lisa,” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah well…there was that bartender in that town I would totally have banged if I hadn’t been kidnapped by an Egyptian god.”

“But you didn’t.”

“What’s your point Sam? That I’m perfectly capable of being a monk?”

Sam shrugged, then smirked.

“So you’re saying it’s fine if I don’t want to be with you, but I can’t be with anyone else.”

“I didn’t say that. You did.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, the discussion is moot. You don’t _want_ to see anyone else, do you?” Sam lifted one eyebrow at Dean.

“You’re remarkably sure of yourself there, hoss,” Dean replied dryly.

Sam reached out lifting Dean’s t-shirt slightly and putting his hand on Dean’s stomach. Dean watched him, curious to see where this was going.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

Dean shrugged, “Anticipatory.”

“Lookit you with the three dollar words...Do you want me to…continue?”

“Continue what? Touching my stomach?”

“I could move my hand. Up or down?”

Dean lifted an eyebrow, “Pretty face notwithstanding, I am not a girl Sam. I don’t need you to take it slow with me. Though I appreciate the gesture.”

Sam trailed his fingers along the ridges and valleys of Dean’s stomach, poking into his navel and feeling along his many scars. Dean lay perfectly still and let him explore. When Sam did no more than caress him after a while, he opened his mouth and pretended to snore.

“Really Dean?”

“Sam, there’s teasing and then there’s…whatever it is you think you’re doing.”

“Fine,” Sam said thrusting his arm so abruptly into Dean’s boxers that he sat up straight in shock.

“Whoa, dude. Some notice would be nice,” he said breathlessly as Sam squeezed his length in his hand.

Sam leaned in and licked Dean’s ear, “You asked for it, you got it,” he said as his hand moved awkwardly up and down, bringing Dean to iron hardness.

“Fuck!” Dean whispered, throwing his head back as his body shook in reaction.

“That’s what I’m tryna do,” Sam murmured hot against Dean’s skin, “You wanna fuck me?” he asked in that voice from before. The one which was three octaves lower than was legal.

“Aaaaah,” was the only thing Dean could reply as Sam took him into his hot mouth, sucking on Dean’s dick like it was an ice lolly.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” Dean asked his voice high, hips bucking helplessly.

Sam peeled his mouth off Dean’s dick to look up at his face, “I’ve been wanting to do this since you found me, Dean.”

“Oh,” Dean said his voice all but gone as Sam went back to sucking, “Maybe, maybe y-you slow down a bit. Give me a sec?” he said, his trembling hand reaching up to rest on Sam’s head like a benediction as he breathed like a freight train engine.

Sam let up, sitting up in the bed and then swinging his leg around Dean’s so that he was straddling him.

“Okay, what would you like to do instead?” he asked.

Dean lay there, panting, looking at Sam like he’d never seen him before.

“I…” he said.

Sam laughed, “You always this smooth?” he asked as he leaned down and took Dean’s lips, tongue plunging down Dean’s throat with no hesitation, tangling with Dean’s in a game of tickle the tonsils. His erection pressed against Dean’s stomach as Dean’s grazed the crack of Sam’s ass. So near yet so far.

Dean yanked himself away from Sam so he could get him to lift up and let Dean take off his sleep boxers.

“We don’t have…I think we need,” he said mind unable to think past the simplest concepts.

“Lube?” Sam said, “Yeah, don’t worry about that. I thought I’d spare you this time and opened myself up in the bathroom.”

Dean arched upward off the bed in reaction, lifting Sam with him and making him laugh.

“Woah there, Pegasus, slow down,” Sam said grabbing onto his shirt to keep himself from falling off Dean. While he had it in his hand, he pulled it off Dean. His hands spread over Dean’s chest, covering as much of it as he smugly and possessively could.

“Condom?” Dean whisper-asked.

“Do we need one?”

“My dick says no. My head says yes.”

Sam laughed, leaning in to kiss Dean deep again, “Let’s go with your dick this time,” he said into Dean’s mouth. In a split second, Dean reversed their positions and Sam’s legs were in the air. His fingers were inside Sam’s hole, just to make sure he was as open as he claimed to be and then he was guiding himself into his _brother_.

He almost stuttered to a stop right there, but his dick brushed against Sam’s hot entrance and Sam arched upward and there was only so much self-control a man could be expected to have.

His tongue plunged into Sam’s waiting mouth as his dick thrust into him to the hilt. The shock of being encased in a hot, tight hole, a place he had no right to be, but which felt like coming home had him freezing.

“Are you okay?” he asked Sam, mouth against mouth.

“More than okay. I’m home,” Sam replied and their stared into each other’s eyes, feeling the truth of those words. Dean withdrew, just a bit, and then drove home again, all the while drowning in Sam’s eyes. He wasn’t sure if his vision was blurry because they were so close or because he was sweating from his eyes. He could feel moisture on Sam’s face too. Perhaps they were both sweating.

∞

 “ _Dean_ ,” Sam said his voice strained just before a warm wetness spread all over Dean’s stomach and crotch even as he let go, body shuddering in the most complete release he’d ever experienced.

His vision whited out and he collapsed on top of his brother, feeling dizzy, disoriented yet untroubled. He could feel his brother beneath him, drawing harsh breaths, and he could hear the baby snoring away at the foot of the bed, but both of those things were far away and nothing to do with him. He was floating on a cloud of bliss and peace and he just wanted to stay there forever.

“Get off me, you oaf,” Sam whispered affectionately in his ear and Dean struggled to move.

“So romantic, Sam,” he said as he managed to roll off him.

“You love me,” Sam said drowsily.

“More than my life,” Dean replied.

 

 


	13. Invasion of Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam woke up first, not sure what had startled him, but feeling a cold grue trickle down his spine.
> 
> Danger.

Sam woke up first, not sure what had startled him, but feeling a cold grue trickle down his spine.

_Danger._

His hand crept beneath his pillow and he cursed, remembering that he no longer kept a gun under there. Goddamn love jones…making him careless and shit.

He turned his head slowly, trying to look around without looking like he was awake. He felt the tense line of his brother’s back against his and knew that Dean felt it too. By some curious telepathy they both sat up at the same time, Dean’s gun raised while Sam dived for the baby. Who was wide awake and staring at him as if waiting. Dean was up, gun ready, stark naked. Sam scooped Jack up and flanked his brother as they stood, tense and waiting.

The door exploded inward and Dean was shooting even as Sam dived, rolling his body around Jack’s as he dove under the bed, where the duffles were, and the extra guns. He grabbed one even as Jack began to cry aiming for the thing’s legs, trying to shoot them out from under him.

Black droplets of goo pinging on the ground let him know they had Leviathan on their hands.

“Please. Why waste your time?” the thing wearing a human face asked and laughed again as he took another step into the room. Sam threw down the gun and picked up a machete even as he felt the bed dip as Dean leaped over it, still shooting. His hand reached out and Sam put the machete in it as he rolled out and up, dragging a very upset Jack with him. Both he and Dean were naked as the day they were born but they couldn’t worry about that now.

“What is this?” the thing in the doorway said looking from one to the other, “Oh, you nasty,” he cackled before his face exploded into a row of teeth and a monster mouth. Dean raised the machete and Jack made a sound of upset before the Leviathan vaporized into so much smoke and dust.

Sam and Dean froze in surprise before they both turned to look at Jack who had quieted down.

“Good boy,” Dean said.

“Urk,” Jack said and hit Sam with his fist on his naked chest.

“Right. We have to go, Dean,” Sam said nodding.

“Yeah, grab the bags.” Dean said, his gaze sweeping over Sam in a concerned once-over, “You okay?”

“I’m great,” Sam said grabbing a shirt and putting it on one handed, not letting go of Jack. Dean dragged the duffels up from under the bed, and started grabbing Jack’s things from his cot. They made their – half naked – way to the car and took off. Sam placed Jack in his car seat and then helped Dean with his clothes as he drove.

“Now what?” he asked once his brother was more or less dressed.

Dean breathed, glancing in the rear view mirror at Jack who had fallen back asleep in his seat.

“We need to end this sooner than later.”

Sam looked back at the baby too, “You think he can do what he did to that Leviathan to Dick Roman?”

Dean shrugged, “Don’t see why not.”

“Hell of a risk though…”

“Yeah. What isn’t these days?”

Sam sat back in his seat, watching the scenery fly by, and didn’t say another word.

∞

They holed up in one of Bobby’s safe houses.

“You remember that one of those things was Bobby?” Sam said, “they might know the location of this place.”

“True. But they can’t know which one we’re at. Not unless we’re spotted or we use a credit card,” Dean said as he put their duffles on the floor of the cabin, “I was thinking we could stay here tonight and then find one of Sam Campbell’s places and hole up there. You remember where those are right?”

“Yeah. There’s one not a day’s ride from here. Reinforced too; devil’s traps worked into the ceiling and foundation, silver on the doors and windows, iron rebar and a salt line six feet deep around the perimeter.”

Dean smirked, “Man weren’t fucking around was he? Now all we need to do is stock up on borax and we’re good.”

“Yeah. I was thinking about how we could make borax bullets.” Sam said.

Dean straightened up from where he was making up Jack’s bed to stare at him with a proud smile, “Look at you. Got your memory back for a day and already a useful member of this team.”

Sam snorted, stroking Jack’s head where it lay on his shoulder, “You missed me,” he said.

Dean’s face sobered, eyes soft and serious as he stared at Sam, “Yeah. I really did.” They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Dean broke the eye contact, fussing with Jack’s blankets and pillows and speculating about what they could eat for dinner. Sam watched him, a fond smile on his face, swaying from side to side with the baby in his arms. They were in so much trouble, they had no one in the world but each other and now a vulnerable baby to look out for, but he didn’t think he’d ever been happier.

Once Dean was finished fussing, he went forward and placed the baby in the makeshift crib. Then he went back out to the car to fetch the bullet moulds. The house was equipped with cleaning products so he could experiment with the bullets while Dean got dinner ready. They also needed a plan and it was his job to gather intel. Sam intended to do just that; Dean had been carrying them on his own for too long. It was time for Sam to take up his share of the burden.

∞

Sam watched fondly as Dean fed the kid a combination of mashed up pawpaw and milk. He _knew_ he was the picture of sappiness and mash; a whole entire chick flick moment and if Dean looked up and saw him it would make him supremely uncomfortable. But he just couldn’t help himself. He’d never been that soft guy who stared with hearts in his eyes or whatever other emojis being in love generated.

Well…except for sometimes with Dean.

Even before he knew that he felt this kind of love for his brother, Dean was the only one who could make him feel this soft mushy helplessness from just _looking_ at his ass. Sam couldn’t believe it had taken him this long _and_ a knock on the head to figure it out. Maybe if they’d known sooner they might have….

What?

Avoided this whole…thing?

Sam frowned, eyes on Dean, mind on the last few weeks; the most content he’d ever been in his _life_ , even with amnesia. Would he give that up for the sake of…what? There was nothing really stopping them from being everything they could be for each other. They always had, they always would, nothing had really changed apart from the fact that Dean was gonna put his penis in Sam’s asshole from time to time. Maybe they’d kiss. Sam didn’t see them holding hands, but it didn’t matter, they were always touching in some way anyway. They’d always sat way too close, walked with shoulders brushing, had no real concept of personal space…Nothing had to change.

“Wow, smoke is coming out of your ears,” Dean said startling him, eyes still on the baby.

“What?”

“You’re thinking too hard,” Dean looked over at him, amusement in his eyes.

Sam snorted, looking away as his face filled with color, “It’s like you don’t even know me,” he said softly.

“Oh, I know you,” Dean stood up and took the baby’s bowl to the sink, rinsing it out as Jack played drums with his plastic spoon. Dean put the bowl down, came over to Sam and planted a wet sloppy kiss on his cheek, “I know you very well.”

Sam’s heart was beating so hard he was surprised they couldn’t hear it in the nearby town. He looked up at Dean and it was like looking into the sun. Painful yet impossible; he had to squint. His hand reached out, cupping Dean’s head without permission. He pulled his brother’s head down, thrusting his tongue hungrily into Dean’s mouth.

Dean was pliant in his hands, letting him nip and suck, bite and lick like he hadn’t just had dinner and was _starving_. He shuffled round Sam’s chair, their lips not breaking contact and straddled Sam in his chair, _really_ going to town on ensuring that Sam’s lips would be swollen and sensitive for days to come.

Sam groaned, hips bucking into his brother.

“Aaaah!” Jack said and Dean broke away, Sam chasing his lips for a minute before the sound registered.

“Ak” Jack continued, clearly not on board with his guardians making out in front him.

Dean sighed, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation, “Your son is such a cockblock,” he said to Sam.

Sam snorted, “Hey, you were the one in your right mind when _we_ decided to keep him.”

“AAAk!” Jack said louder, apparently not amused at being spoken about in such a way.

Dean laughed, standing up and rubbing his erection in Sam’s face before looping his leg out and pushing away from him. Sam watched him go regretfully and gave Jack a look.

“Really man? I thought we understood each other,” he whispered to the kid.

“Urk,” Jack replied with a huge toothless grin.

Sam sighed, “You’re lucky I can’t be mad at you,” he told the baby, “besides, I don’t think I can move right now.”

He pointed down at his bulging lap and sighed again, closing his eyes and trying to think about dead puppies and anything that wasn’t green eyes, bowlegs, callused gentle hands and a mouth that wouldn’t quit. It was hard.

In every sense of the word.

∞

Dick Roman made it very easy to find him by having his goons ambush them as they were moving safe houses. They knocked Dean out and tied him up in the back seat next to the baby, sandwiched by two Leviathan. Sam was ordered to stay still and be quiet or they would eat his family in front of his eyes.

Sam stayed statue still, eyes on Dean the entire ride.


	14. Boom Boom Puff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In spite of some very rough treatment, Jack was uncharacteristically silent. Sam cut his eyes to the baby every now and then, as the Leviathan drove them, and found Jack looking back. On the one hand, he was grateful that the Leviathan hadn’t decided to have Jack as a ‘snack’ as they drove but on the other, he wondered why they didn’t even glance at him. Did they know Jack wasn’t quite human? What nefarious plans did they have for him?

In spite of some very rough treatment, Jack was uncharacteristically silent. Sam cut his eyes to the baby every now and then, as the Leviathan drove them, and found Jack looking back. On the one hand, he was grateful that the Leviathan hadn’t decided to have Jack as a ‘snack’ as they drove but on the other, he wondered why they didn’t even glance at him. Did they know Jack wasn’t quite human? What nefarious plans did they have for him?

Sam’s heart was going a mile a minute. Dean was still out cold and Sam didn’t know if he was alright or not. He needed for Dean to open in his eyes. Preferably now. Before Sam lost his mind.

The Leviathan driving their car turned in at Roman Enterprises headquarters, descending to the basement parking and stopping in front of the lift. Two beefy dudes were waiting to transport the three of them somewhere and Sam insisted on carrying Jack. No one protested and he followed the two goons, who were dragging Dean along by his arms.

They were left in a conference room and Sam immediately rushed to the sink where he wet a corner of his shirt and then dropped to his knees. The goons had dropped Dean on the ground like some sack of potatoes and Sam wiped at the blood seeping from a wound in his head.

“Jack? Please help me out here,” he pleaded with the baby, “Is he okay?”

Jack reached out one fisted hand and slapped Dean on the forehead. Dean’s eyes flew open, looking startled and very much alive and Sam dropped back on his ass in relief.

“You’re okay,” he breathed, brushing hair out of his eyes.

Dean sat up, “What happened?” he asked.

“Dick Roman.” Sam said shortly and that had Dean shooting to his feet, looking around in agitation.

“We’re in the Death Star?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Son of a bitch.”

∞

Dean was pacing up and down, doing everything but wringing his hands to show how much shit he thought they were in. Sam watched him, bouncing Jack on his thigh, heart pounding in his chest as he tried not to think about the possibility of loss. It was a constant in their lives, one they had come to terms with living with. But to lose Dean…

_Now?_

It wouldn’t kill him – it would drive him insane. Any previous alliterations of Sam that had been considered crazy would be null and void. He would burn the world down.

He didn’t want that. So the only thing he could think of was to protect Dean. He looked down at Jack assessingly. The monster baby that had simply _fallen_ into his lap. Perhaps that had been for a reason. Perhaps he and Jack were meant to make sure Dean was safe, forever.

He ran his hand up and down Jack’s back, soothingly, thoughtfully as he pondered his option.

“Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t,” Dean’s voice cut into his musings, startling him.

“What do you mean?” Sam squeaked.

“I mean, I know your plotting face. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, stop.”

“So…what? We just sit here with our thumbs up our asses?” Sam demanded.

The sound of Jack laughing distracted him. He looked down to see his toothless mouth open, gums on display in a wide grin, blue eyes round with amusement. Sam couldn’t help it, he smiled too, leaning in to rub his nose against Jack’s.

“Oh you find that funny huh?” he cooed.

“You’re teaching the kid bad words now? Really Sam?” Dean admonished.

That really made Sam laugh.

“Sure. I wonder where I learned to do that,” he said, eyes shining with amusement and affection as he looked up at Dean.

Dean shrugged, “I didn’t know any better. You do.”

“Sure okay,” Sam said still grinning widely. He looked back down at Jack, who smiled back at him.

“Swearing is wrong,” Sam whispered to him enjoying the way Jack cackled in response.

The door behind them opened and shut and the air suddenly became rather oppressive. Jack made a sound of distress and Sam automatically hunched over him, trying to protect him.

“Well…isn’t this the very picture of domestication,” Dick Roman said, smarm leaking from every syllable.

“Fuck you Dick,” Dean said as he continued to pace, not bothering to even look at the leader of the Leviathan.

“Ah, so we’re doing the civil thing are we? Well in that case we should get comfortable,” Dick said settling himself at the end of the table, “Now, who wants to go first?” He looked from Sam to Dean with a self-satisfied smirk. 

Dean stopped pacing.

Sam held Jack closer.

“What do you mean, go first?” Dean asked.

“Well, I am doing you the honor of eating you myself. So who wants to go first?”

Sam stood up.

“Sam!” Dean warned.

Sam took one step toward Dick and then another. Dean stepped between Sam and Dick, glaring daggers at Sam.

“Dean? Move.”

“Listen to your brother Dean. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Dick was literally filing his nails.

“Sam, whatever you’re thinking about…”

Sam thrust Jack into his arms, “I can’t watch you die, Dean. Better to go first,” he said.

Dean stared at him as if he couldn’t believe those words had come out of his mouth.

“Really?” he said incredulously, nose wrinkling.

Sam almost laughed to see it, it was so quintessential Dean.  He reached out and placed his palm on Dean’s cheek. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

“I love you.”

Dean huffed in annoyance as he closed his eyes, shaking his head, “No. Nope. Sorry. Self-sacrificing is my schtick. I ain’t lettin’ you one up me now,” he said thrusting Jack back into Sam’s arms.

Dick Roman sighed and stood up, walking toward the brothers who were too busy engaged in a Mexican standoff, baby balanced between them, to notice him.

“Look guys, no one needs to sacrifice themselves. You are all dying today,” he said soothingly, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder, and another on Dean’s, looking from one to the other like he was settling a dispute. So he missed Jack reaching out to him, and placing a fist on his face. He _did_ feel the rearrangement of his molecules that caused his body to first shudder, shake and then explode. By then it was too late to do anything about the fact that he was about to disintegrate into a million pieces. Sam dived on Dean and Jack, pulling them down and covering them with his body as the room began to quake. There was a sound like an avalanche of a million rocks rolling down a steep mountainside. And then everything stopped and went very quiet. This was followed by a monumental explosion that covered the entire room in black goo.

But of Dick Roman, there was no sign.

Jack began to cry.

Sam rolled off his brother and the baby, helping Dean to sit up as they tried to comfort Jack. He was probably upset at being covered in black goo so they tried to clean that off as best they could. It was hard considering they were as dirty as the kid.

“Washroom,” Dean said.

“You think it’s safe out there?”

Dean shrugged, “Judging by the fire alarms going off, I’d say people are probably preoccupied with other concerns right now.”

Sam looked up, “Weird that the sprinklers haven’t come on. That’s a violation of the building code.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Come on.”

There was a bathroom at the end of the corridor that was currently unoccupied and they cleaned a crying Jack off as well as they could. His hiccupping wails petered off soon enough as the goo was wiped off his face and hands.

“There you go. That’s better right?” Dean cooed at him as he wiped. Sam watched him with unbearable affection and Dean pretended not to notice.

Sam turned on a tap and washed up as well and then held his hands out for the baby, “Your turn,” he said. Dean nodded, handed the baby over and cleaned up.

They opened the door cautiously, looking around to see if there were any Leviathan waiting for them. The coast looked clear so they crept down the corridor, and got on the lift. Jack was sucking nonchalantly at his fists as they walked, seemingly fine now and as curious as always about where they were going.

They got down to the ground floor where the fire department was busy herding people out of the building in an orderly fashion. An EMT caught sight of them holding a baby and hurried forward.

“Are you alright? What happened to you?” he asked, looking them up and down and noting the black goo that clung to their clothes.

“We’re fine thanks.”

“I should check you out, mind coming to my ambulance?” he asked, pushing Sam along in the direction he wanted him to go.

“I said we’re fine,” Dean said getting between them and nudging Sam away from his guiding hand.

The EMT shrugged and went to look for other people to harass.

Sam and Dean found their car in the underground garage, exchanging a look before getting in.

“Did we just get rid of the Leviathans?” Sam asked.

“ _We_ didn’t. The little bugger with the mystery powers did. And don’t think I forgot what you wanted to do!”

Sam cast him a shamefaced glance, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

Dean shrugged, foot down on the gas. They disappeared into the horizon in the confusion.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah, Sam?”

“You wanna…maybe find a house with a white picket fence and raise a kid?”

Dean threw back his head and laughed.


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dean?”
> 
> “S’m”
> 
> “Dean!”

“Dean?”

“S’m”

“ _Dean!_ ”

“’m?”

“It’s your turn to get up.”

All Sam got for his efforts were a loud groan and Dean burrowing deeper into the duvet.

“Come on Dean, Jack needs his bottle.” Sam tried pushing Dean out of the bed with his butt but his brother was rock solid.

“C’mon Sam, I gotta work in the morning!” Dean was finally articulate.

Sam shot up, eyes narrowed at Dean who was still sprawled with his head buried in his pillow next to him, “Excuse me?” his voice was very high. Even in his woozy state, Dean knew not to repeat himself.

He slowly turned over so he could look at his brother.

“Sam, all I’m saying is I have to work outside the home. Which means I have to wake up in the morning, early. How about I take first shift, huh? Wake up in the morning, bathe him, feed him, put him back to sleep. Huh?”

Sam huffed a bit before getting out of bed and going to get a bottle.

∞

True to his word, Jack was washed, fed, changed, _and_ put down for his early morning nap by the time Sam got up. He ran a finger through Jack’s downy head and smiled before going to search for coffee. His heart softened even more when he realized that Dean had left him breakfast on a covered plate, placed in the warmer.

They’d decided to take over Singer Salvage for the time being, living in Bobby’s half reconstructed residence. They had all the walls up, the water running and the electricity reconnected. Sam was working on indoor cleaning and décor in his free time while Dean fixed up cars to make some money. He poured himself a cup and then uncovered his breakfast and smiled.

An orange, a pile of bacon and wheat bread. Dean was shaping up to be quite the phenomenal husband. Who knew?

“Aww, that’s sweet,” a voice said from behind him making him whirl around, reaching for a gun that was no longer wedged into his jeans.

A woman stood in his kitchen, looking very much at home as she leaned her hip on the kitchen table.

“Who are you?” Sam asked stepping back and grabbing a knife from the holder.

The woman waved her hand, “Oh relax, I’m not here to hurt you. My name is Amadeus. I’m an angel.”

Sam didn’t lower the knife, even though he knew it would be useless. The angel, Amadeus turned away from him, and peered into the corridor.

“Well come on in. Let’s not keep the Winchester waiting,” she said to someone Sam couldn’t see.

A woman walked into the room, limping slightly. Sam looked her up and down. She looked way too emaciated to be an angel, with the sunken eyes, heavy with bags, the needle tracks up her arm, her obviously neglected appearance.

“This is Kelly,” Amadeus said, “Kelly? Say hi to Sam.”

Kelly raised her hand tentatively, “Hi Sam,” she said quietly.

“What do you want?” Sam asked.

Amadeus sighed, “This is awkward,” she said.

“Out with it,” Sam growled, knife pointing at her.

“Alright, alright…Kelly here is…Jack’s mother,” Amadeus said and Sam was already circling around getting between them and the stairs. Amadeus made a placating gesture.

“We’re not here to take him from you. We just…Kelly would like to see her boy.”

“How do I know you’re legit?” Sam sidled to the bookshelf that lined the corridor, snatching up the gun that they stashed there.

“Sam, if I wanted to, I could just have teleported us to the kid’s room and left without you being any the wiser.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because…” Amadeus scratched her nose, “I’ll be honest with you; if we could have done it that way, we would have.”

Sam continued to point the gun at Kelly.

“But the kid seems to have formed some sort of bond with you. I don’t think he would agree to come with us…without your permission.”

Sam smirked cynically, “So you’re here to what? Ask me to ask Jack to go with you?”

Amadeus spread her hands out as if to concede the point.

“Pass.”

“Hear us out.”

“I don’t think so, please leave.”

Kelly stepped forward her hands up, “Look at me Sam Winchester. Do I look like I could look after a kid?”

“Nope,” Sam said at once.

Kelly nodded, “You’re right. But that’s my child and all I want is a chance to be in his life. I can do that in any capacity you like.” She looked around at the kitchen.

“I could clean house for you. Help you fix this place up. I’m good with fixing things. Please sir.”

“You lost him once already,” Sam said.

“I did. I wasn’t strong enough to protect him from the bad people. But clearly you are.”

Sam looked at Amadeus, “What about you? What’s _your_ stake in this?”

“Do you know what the kid is Sam?” the angel asked.

Sam shrugged.

“He’s a crossbreed between an angel and a witch. That makes him not just a nephilim, but a magical one too. Do you know what some would do to get their hands on him?”

“I can imagine.”

“And yet somehow, he managed to fall into the hands of the Winchesters.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the kid can take care of himself, and obviously, he wants you and your brother to be part of that process. I’m just here as back up, until your friend Castiel shows back up.”

“Castiel is dead.”

Amadeus nodded, “He’s been dead before though.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“So what is your verdict Sam Winchester?” Amadeus asked.

“I have to talk to my brother.”

“Very well. But don’t put it off for too long.”

Amadeus turned as if to leave, one hand on Kelly’s shoulder.

“Not her. _She_ can stay.”

Kelly smiled happily.

∞

“Really? You adopted a druggie now? A supernatural baby wasn’t enough for you?”

“She’s his mother, Dean,” Sam whispered moving closer.

“She _says_ she’s his mother,” Dean objected letting Sam run his fingers up and down his naked sides.

“Jack seemed to recognize her,” Sam said.

“Mmm.”

“And I think it’s good for a kid to know its mother, so if she wants to be in his life, we should let her.”

“Mmm,” Dean said sounding skeptical.

Sam leaned in and kissed him, “I love how protective you are.” His hand trailed lower, tracing the curve of Dean’s butt.

Dean made a dissenting noise, “Who knew you were such a sap?”

Sam giggled, pressing their bodies together, “You did. So…you too tired or…?”

Dean scoffed, “Never too tired for that,” he said curving an arm around Sam’s neck and pulling him in so they were mouth to mouth, torso to torso, and soul to soul. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading. My main aim with this fic was to not use any "classic Winchester tropes." Which means no 'one of them was secretly pining since they were fifteen' or 'mutual pining with no communication' or "We're brothers, its wrong, but I just can't help myself' dialogue or 'having sex while one of them is unaware of who they really are to each other'. The last one is mainly because I like to think that canon Sam and Dean just would not do that to each other given the many many times choice has been taken away from them. I wanted to write a fairly new story. Please let me know if I failed or succeeded.


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